There’s a certain pride that stems from one’s familial roots. Much of Wyoming is a land of desolation and emptiness where harsh climates and extreme conditions are a fact of life. When I speak of my family living in such a place I must…
“speak in the poetical language of my [ancestral] country, the seat of Celtic Muse is in the mist of the secret and solitary hill, and her voice is in the murmur of the mountain stream. He who woos her must love the barren rock more than the fertile valley and the solitude of the desert better than the festivity of the hall.”
(Sir Walter Scott, Waverly)
I took this photo in Yellowstone National Park.
© 2013 Tyrel Bramwell