Serenity lost

Do you remember? I do. That early morning twelve years ago we were in Grand Teton National Park. Crisp air just shy of cold. Brilliant blue skies, the sun golden but not bright or warm, not that early. Deep breaths to take it all in, the absolutely beautiful scenery. That long-ago day, we were at the Oxbow Bend, watching my favorite woodland animal, the elusive moose. I was taking photos, Dave scanning the brush for more animals.

The peaceful morning was jolted when a car pulled in, radio blaring. Four people, two couples it seemed, spilled out to enjoy the view. I was annoyed, getting thoroughly pissed off when one woman lowered the windows and cranked the volume up even more.

Really?! Did these Easterners not have a clue about quiet spaces and wildlife, and keeping the noise down to a dull roar? Dave walked over to ask them to turn the radio down. "Did you hear?" they asked. And that's how we learned that terrorists had flown a commercial jetliner into one of the World Trade towers. And we were standing there, talking, listening... when the second plane flew into the second tower.

We've been back to this peaceful place several times since that day. And each time I hear the echoes of that news broadcast, quiet and urgent, forever disturbing the serenity of this beautiful place.