A couple of weeks ago I was traveling across central Wyoming. It was late afternoon, and I was enjoying the spaciousness of the high country desert, the dry warm air and constantly changing show of clouds and light. With little traffic on the two-lane highway, I settled into the drive, turning on the radio. To my delight, I discovered an FM radio station, broadcasting out of the Wind River Reservation. It was playing Native American drumming and singing.
As I was motoring down the highway, reveling in the sound, I noticed a small sign ahead. Slowing down, I could see that it had an arrow pointing to the right, below the words “Viewing Site.” It was an inconspicuous sign I had not noticed before on this highway, not an official highway department marker. I was going too fast to turn in time, so I went on past, then turned around and came back, so that I could turn onto the narrow rutted dirt road.
Dispelling fleeting images of getting stranded along this flimsy excuse of a road, I proceeded to drive through the rabbitbrush covered flats. I rolled my window down to take in the pungent scent of Artemisia Vulgaris – big sagebrush. The sun was sinking lowly, nearing the western horizon. I drove about a half a mile, then stopped. A huge vista was opening up in front of me. I was parked on the upper rim of a huge cirque.
I turned off the ignition, hesitated a moment, then turned the radio back on – with its sounds of drumming and chanting. Walking a short distance from the car, I could look out over a vast magnificent scene of the Wind River Basin. The Wind River Mountains and Absaroka Mountains, glimmering in the far distance to the west and north, are home to the headwaters of the many streams that flow into the Wind River which eventually flows north into the Missouri River drainage.
The scene was tranquil, yet magnificent, evoking images of the many animals and people who have roamed the land below for centuries – eating of its abundance, mining its resources, trading, creating communities that have come and gone. Gratefully, I breathed it all in, then got back into my car and headed down the highway to my destination for the night.
Why did I stop? Curiosity. And it is curiosity that has led me down many unknown paths in my life. It is curiosity that has led me to discover so much in my life. It is curiosity that led me to my profession in the field of health education and massage therapy. It is curiosity that keeps me interested in my clients, and engaged with the people I meet every day.
It is curiosity that opens the door to adventure, and it is curiosity that forms the basis of scientific inquiry. It is curiosity that motivates me to question authority, and spurs my creative fire. Where will this go? What will the new day bring?
What are you curious about?
