Clay Butte, from Beartooth Highway |
Technically, I have never lived quite long enough in Wyoming to REALLY call it my home. But I have probably spent more time in Wyoming than perhaps any other state in the US after Colorado--except perhaps New York where I lived for a whole school year when I went to Graduate School. You see, my favorite aunt--actually three of my favorite aunts--lived in Wyoming. I would be hard put to count the times we drove to Casper to visit them. And over the decades I have camped and hiked and reveled in what is pretty close to being my favorite state (which says a lot: I am pretty sold on just about every state in the Union--I have visited all of them after all!)
Primula pauciflora (Dodecatheon pulchellum) |
This blog post is the first of several that will share certain subtexts, themes and just plain crass wishes: 1) to convince you of the extraordinary majesty of Wyoming 2) this post will introduce you to one of the greatest contemporary American songwriters (if you don't fall in love with his Lullaby I will eat my hat) 3) to invite you on a journey...
Clay Butte (incidentally) is a touchstone for me--the first big mountain one comes up to as you rise up onto the Beartooth Plateau. The Beartooth Highway is (as painful as it can be for a Coloradoan to admit) the most beautiful mountain pass in the West. The little shooting star (once known as Dodecatheon watsonii) was photographed last summer on Medicine Mountain in the Bighorns--another major touchstone of my life. That IS my stubby little finger.
These two glimpses pretty much exemplify the vast range of Wyoming's beauty. Although Wyoming has a LOT of big mountains and little alpine plants, most of the state is pretty flat. I suspect at least 2/3 of Wyoming is comprised of Artemisia tridentata (Big Sagebrush) growing on steppe shrub-grassland. People who zip along I-80 are often surprised at how flat, how seemingly "boring" the landscape is. I have walked across Wyoming steppe all over the state: it's chockablock FULL of fantastic wildflowers (at the right time, of course) a surprising proportion of which are endemic.
Oxytropis besseyi |
Here is a typical example of one of the treasures lurking among the sagebrush---there are four subspecies of this Astragalid--most of which occur in Wyoming, which holds the lion's share of the plant's distribution!
Bison bison |
This post will be followed by a closer look at some of my favorite Wyoming places and plants, but I hope to end this post in a way I never have before. I hope you will listen to one of my favorite songs--which I think you will find haunting as I have. It provides an aural accompaniment to my thoughts and feelings about our fellow, rectangular state--and state of mind....
Cody Valley from Saint Thomas the Apostle Retreat Cemter |
Please indulge me: keep this image up--but click on this URL and play the song* as you contemplate this picture. I think "My Sweet Wyoming Home" is surely one of the most beautiful American lullabies. Here are the words, which are beautiful to read in their own right as a poem:
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There's a silence on the prairie, that a man can't help but feelShadows growing longer now, nipping at my heelsI know that soon that old four-lane that runs beneath my wheelsWill take me home, to my sweet Wyoming home
I headed down the road last summerWith a few good friends of mineThey all hit the money, Lord, I didn't make a dimeThe entry fees they took my dough, the travelin' took my timeAnd I'm headed home, to my sweet Wyoming home
Watch the moon, smiling in the skyHum a tune, a prairie lullabyHear the wind, and old coyotes cryA song of home, sweet Wyoming home
Now the rounders they all wish you luckWhen they know you're in a jamBut your money's ridin' on the bull, and he don't give a damnWell there's shows in all the citiesCities turn your heart to clay
Takes all a man can muster, just to try and get awayThe songs I'm used to hearin'Ain't the kind the jukebox playAnd I'm headed home, to my Sweet Wyoming home
Well I've always loved the ridin'There ain't nothing quite the sameAnother year might bring me luck, win in another gameThere's a magpie on a fencerail, that's callin' out my nameAnd he calls me home, to my Sweet Wyoming home
Watch the moon, smiling in the skyHum a tune, a prairie lullabyHear the wind, and old coyotes cryA song of home, sweet Wyoming homeIt's a song of home, sweet Wyoming home
Songwriters: Bill Staines
(I linked the composer/writer's version of the song above--which I prefer. But Chris LeDoux was the singer who made this song a hit back in 1988: his version is pretty slick and very listenable.)
Oh yes, I have one last wish: do join me in June at the Annual General Meeting of the North American Rock Garden Society in Cheyenne. Click on this Logo to find out more:
*If you enjoyed Bill Staines song, do "like" it--I think it's sad Youtube only has 135 likes for a really great tune wit such beautiful words.
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