July 4th: Part Two- It's All Downhill from Here

Part Two
Sunday morning was dark, dreary and Rapid City was thoroughly drenched in rain. Great for the flowers, not so good for an outside holiday like the 4th of July.

When the weather forecast predicted rain for the day, I canceled my plans to watch fireworks. I thought to perhaps just quietly read for the day. Then the phone rang...

Though the previous day had been filled with some lovely scenes, it was also draining. JhonDuane apparently felt the same. So we agreed to meet in Hot Springs, and through the Black Hills for the day, letting the winds take us wherever. I packed whatever I could get my hands on for picnic items, and headed South on 79.

The whole way down it rained. I thought to myself, well, if worst comes to worst, we can picnic in the car anyway! By the time I pulled into Hot Springs the rain was intermittent. By the time Jhon arrived, the rain had stopped, and there were patches of blue in the sky... and then, we headed North.

We drove through Wind Cave National Park with the thought of taking a tour...WRONG! The cars were overflowing the parking lot- and the rest prowled around like sharks looking for prey.

And so we continued on, and came across a large herd of buffalo.

Though it was a warm rain, some of the buffalo calves didn't look too happy with it all!
































Luckily, comfort isn't far away!













A magnificent bull crossed our path, talking to his ladies...



We left him to his interests...





As we drove on the sun came out, and blue skies made for a brilliant late afternoon.























The little car waited patiently while we got out to take some photos.



































I got a shot of the flax flowers...







... and someone got a shot of me!



















Which was reciprocated!















Touche!

















It was so remote in this part of the park, I couldn't help but feel this is exactly as it must have looked to the Lakota People, pre-contact.





























A few residents obligingly posed...




















The beauty of the road lured us further and further along...












































... and eventually into the achingly beautiful area of Buffalo Gap. It was through here that the buffalo wandered after they had emerged from Wind Cave, the Lakota People following...

So we began our drive back to Hot Springs, to the little roadside park, to grill some chicken, and enjoy the small picnic delicacies we had brought...













But first- one last stop-

our little friend serenaded us as we paused to view the breathless scene of blood-red earth!




The sun set over a long and leisurely meal, with plenty of good conversation. 

Then, at dusk- we meandered slowly back to the car, and drove reluctantly back to town... just in time, as it turned out- to join the crowd- young children and old ones alike- for the Grande Finale! 

Fireworks over Hot Springs- what a treat!

... not bad for a dark and dreary day!

July 4th: Part One- It's All Downhill from Here

Part One
When I was growing up in Boxford, Massachusetts, Dad had a buddy named Bud Littlefield. He was a wonderful actor- (as in stage), and- at that time, he was a building contractor of great artistry. He knew how to design a house in correct proportion, design correct to the style and period, with the correct scale. He knew how to put the little finishing touches on a place that educated eyes knew to value.

He helped me construct a major addition to my first house in West Newbury, Massachusetts- a small 1790's gem "in the rough". He would come at the crack of dawn on Mondays and explain to me what needed to be done. He kept a watchful eye on me for the first few minutes, then left me to do it. It was a pretty powerful gift he gave me- the trust that I could "get 'er done", back in the day when a "girl" didn't do that sort of guy stuff.

All the photos that went with that building project are now- "up in smoke." All I have are the memories. Yet- his kindness and trust that I could do the job will always be with me.

Bud used to like to come to my parents' house for morning coffee. In those days in Boxford, there was no such thing as a locked door. He would simply walk in the kitchen- often covered with plaster dust, mud (cement) or other evidence of "the job" he was working. My Mom would pour him coffee, and he would then talk in a knowledgeable way for- at least an hour- on whatever was the topic of the moment. At this time of year he would squint, look out the window and- in a sorrowful voice remark,

"Ay-yuh-sigh... Was drivin' past the pond on Gawhgetown road s'mah-nin'. Swump maples ah tuhnin'... ayuh! s'afteh the 4wth- 'xpect it's all downhill from he-yuh!"

Now Bud could speak the King's English with the best, but- he'd spent a deal of time in Maine, and could copp a "Bert & I" accent better than anyone else I ever met!

This past weekend, with no such thoughts, I looked forward to a luxurious 3-day 4th, with sugarplum ideas dancing in my brain, for a holiday that I naively thought to put in motion. What does the song say? "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans..."




So it was that- on Saturday, I found myself traveling- first South to Pine Ridge, and then on to Scottsbluff, NE.

On the way I picked up Nancy and 'Lizzie, and off we went to Pine Ridge. We arrived in time for lunch, and JhonDuane graciously fed us. Soon after we were back on the road. I was grateful that Jhon offered to drive, as it freed me up to appreciate the land before me that I had never seen.

It was a gloriously sunny day- in the high 80's, and a perfect "weather breeder" as they say in New England. As we sped South, Jhon pointed out a system that was forming- and remarked it had every potential for the spawn of severe weather. To my eyes- it was as beautiful as anything I have ever seen!

We marveled at it's continued expansion as we continued on our way. I was reminded how the sky out here is often written into books and movies as a major character. I do see why.

Once we arrived in Scottsbluff, we put our attention to our journey's purpose. While there, a tornado did in fact touch down, thankfully, not close to the hospital- though the sky looked strange indeed.

We started back North. The day had significantly changed, but nonetheless beautiful! As the storm advanced on its tyrannous path, we followed in respectful distance. The photos tell the story:













































The Old Rugged Cross.








Back in South Dakota, in Pine Ridge.



































That Warrior's territory.






Another fiery South Dakota sunset.

















The end of a long, long day.