the spirit of yosemite
I sat and watched the full moon come up behind Glacier Point last night from the banks of the Merced River as it wound its way through the meadow in the middle of the valley. The moon was brilliant reflected across the water. The river gurgled and waves lapped on the sand at my feet. The frogs were singing in full chorus. Upper Yosemite Falls thundered in the background. It was glorious.
Took my black jet bear fetish and two of my wolf fetishes. The black bear really liked it in Yosemite like it had come home. It went with me everywhere. To Lower Yosemite Falls, Mirror Lake, Vernal Falls footbridge, the meadow, Bridalveil, and the valley viewpoint where you can see the whole valley laid out in front of you.
I did not realize how much the energy of the mountains and the valley soaked into me over the week we were there until we were leaving. I want to go back already.