Stopping to smell the sulfur

After a few days filled with moving boxes madness coupled with a sore throat that's been making its rounds through our family, I needed a day to myself. Days that like are hard to come by as a parent of young kids, but since we've been in Montana, Chris and I have tried really hard to make space for each other to get out and play.

Sunday stretched out before me with no snacks or lunches to make, (except for myself,) no logistics to remember, no bedtime curfew that, if missed, would lead to a meltdown. I could explore whatever I wanted at entirely my own pace.

After Stella made me coffee and cozied me down in a blanket while I waited for my cold medicine to kick in, I headed out to Yellowstone. Weather reports predict a deep frost coming on Wednesday, and I wanted to get out and savor the tail end of a golden fall. Also, I wanted silence, something else that's hard to come by as a mom of young ones.

My day was perfect: leisurely and dawdling. I stopped along the road whenever something caught my eye — riotous willows alongside the banks, or a small grove of golden aspen interrupting a hill of evergreen.

This photo is actually from Redfish lake in Idaho - I couldn't capture the aspens no matter how many pictures I took.

The only thing I uttered for eight hours straight was a request for a cup of hot water, made inside the 'coolest treehouse ever,' the Old Faithful Inn.

The opportunity to just be: to stop whenever, skip whatever and soak up what I liked, and all in such a mysterious, complicated and stunning place, was delicious.