17

This sounds and looks corny but hey 17 is a strange number that's come around a few times in my life, once I was 17 years old, even. The last time 17 came up last when I was in England. At that time I made contact with an old teacher. I hate calling her old because she isn't. She's actually a few years younger then my folks. I say old because she had been a teacher of mine when I was in kindergarten/first grade. I'd traveled to London with Mercy Ships and had a long weekend off. I took the train out to her place and eventually went to her Mom's house which was a block away from where I lived as a youngster. I spent the day wandering the village; from my old house on Francis Road up to the school house, along a path that brought new meaning to sensory overload with the scent of memories; along another road up to an old stone cottage where we last lived before returning to the States. I knocked on the door of that old (100 years) place & asked if I could take a few pictures, explaining why I wanted to.

This time 17 is coming up as I head to Yellowstone NP. It's been 17 years since I last visited The Park. For me, I was on my own for the first time. It was a time of trial and error. It was a time that I learned and established my own rules. It was a time of vision that eventually took me across the USA and eventually over and on the Seas with Mercy Ships. I worked with the concession company at the Old Faithful Inn for two summers. I shared many a day with some awesome people, one or two I've caught up with in recent days. If you stumble upon this and were in Yellowstone 90 or 91 drop a line my way.

This time I heading back just for a few days. The trip will be fast & furious. I'll have the camera(s). I'll revisit a few of the old hikes & try to capture a few of the images that were forever captured on film (now buried in a trunk of memories). Ironically looking at the calendar it will be near 17 years to the day I left. I do hope it won't be another 17 years before I return the next time.