89. American Bison

            One of the symbolic animals of the American West that I really admire is the bison, sometimes known as the buffalo. I’ve never seen large herds of them on the Great Plains—in fact, when I’ve seen them in the plains states they were domesticated and being raised for their meat. Where I have seen them in the wild is in Yellowstone National Park and the surrounding areas of southern Montana. They always seem so benign that they deceive tourists. Sometimes they seem more statuesque than living, sitting or standing so still for great spans of time, usually near a geyser or a colored mud pot. Nearly every year someone in the park is trampled and killed by a charging buffalo. I can easily imagine it, walking along a park boardwalk, getting close to that statuesque creature just to see if it is really alive and then suddenly it proves to be more alive than you ever were, trampling you into a bloody mound in the mud of a hot spring.

I have never been the tourist who even begins to get so close to those extra-large cattle. I live where moose and bear have both wandered through my lawn, so I know they aren’t just larger versions of a stuffed toy. Sometimes I wonder if in that moment of charging the buffalo collectively remembers all the slaughter and carnage our species inflicted upon them and suddenly its rage can no longer be contained in some symbol we used to stamp upon our nickels. When I am envisioning this (for I have never seen a tourist succumb to such stupidity near wild animals) I can’t help but hold a great amount of respect for such a noble creature that represents a different era and a sense of freedom that no longer exists in the way it once did. Now they are confined to a few farms, and a national park and its surroundings. It doesn’t even roam free on our currency anymore. I probably am more reminded of loss when I see the bison, but I’m glad there are a few of them still around, still taking moments to exalt themselves above human stupidity. I am a great admirer of the American bison, a reminder of a beautiful, violent and tumultuous history.

88. American Sense of Responsibility

Typically, I am impressed by the American sense of responsibility and concern. We take care ourselves and our own and more often than not we take care of others. Whenever we fall into troubles over this sense of responsibility is when we debate about how or if we should take care of something or someone. If you consider our poor healthcare system you would think we were the worst people in the world for being responsible, but in reality we’re too caught up in debating how that care should be done. So in the meantime, while our policy wonks debate this problem, real Americans take up the responsibility by being first responders, doctors, nurses, neighbors who make meals for the sick or bereaved, and neighbors who raise funds to help those in difficult situations. Americans pitch in. We may blunder, make mistakes and stumble like blind people but we try to take care of ourselves and our neighbors. This trait allows us to be both loved and despised. When we are despised it is because sometimes we’re over eager to help the rest of the world and the rest of the world may not really want help. That same thing can happen at home. Sometimes people just want us to mind our own business. Personally, I can forgive a blunder here or there when I know it is out of concern for my wellbeing. I admire the American sense of responsibility, and aspire to it.

87. Climate Varieties

           This morning as I write this it is -5 degrees F here on the edge of the Palouse grassland where it meets the forest of the Bitterroot Mountains. It is cold and wintery here but I just spent the weekend on the Snake River plain where the weather was sunny and promising of spring. There weren’t any snow banks and I felt comfortable to be outside without a coat just soaking up the sunshine. I live in a state with a variety of climates from high desert to temperate rain forests.

            The United States has even more climate varieties than just the state of Idaho. Right now I could find even colder climates on the vast arctic tundra of Alaska or I could be sunning myself in the semi-tropical beaches of South Florida. We live in a country that has any climate the northern hemisphere has to offer. I feel very fortunate to have been to all fifty of these United states and to have experienced at least a portion of what those states and their climates offer. I am prone to loving all four distinct seasons so I’m lucky to live where I do. But at this time of year when it should be turning to spring yet winter has a firmer grip on us than it has all season, I dream of swimming with sea turtles on a beach in Hawaii. While work usually prevents me from doing that, I have had the chance to do it. I know all kinds of retired people who leave their northern homes to winter in Arizona or southern California. We are fortunate as a nation to have the opportunities that we do in regard to visiting and experiencing a variety of climates without ever leaving our homeland. This is just one of the many hundreds of things that I am thankful for as an American, so when I’m grousing about scraping the ice off my windshield or hearing the latest news about some idiotic politician I can imagine hiking amongst saguaro cacti and then when I’m by the fire with a cup of coffee I can plan my trip there and go for that hike in the desert.