“The West of which I speak is but another name for Wild.” Images of Jackson Hole

I feel unqualified to talk about the Wild West.

I went. I knocked on the door and it opened to reveal a space too large to hold me.  Instead of taking it in I stood helpless as it told me it would not – could not – be taken.  Failing to measure the breadth of its beauty, I grasped for my lens, which also fell short.  The hand that held the lens was too young, too giddy.  Too unsteadied by the majesty of it all.

Nevertheless, I hid behind my little Canon Rebel, squatting to try this angle or that aperture, to manipulate the mountains that rose before me.

The results only hint at what was seen, and humble the seer.

But, I share some of my impressions with this caveat: I knocked on the door of the Wild West and these photos are only a child’s drawing of what I saw from her stoop.

If you haven’t been, go.  If you have, go back.

{“Mormon Row” barn, Jackson-Moran Road}{The Stagecoach}{Jenny Lake Lodge + Yellowstone sky}

{Lamar River Stock Trailhead, Yellowstone}{Even noxious weeds and cow-pies have their place}{Gros Ventre River, near Kelly}{“Big Belly” River Ranch}{Jackson County Fair}
{Yellowstone}{Pendl’s Bakery and Cafe, Driggs Idaho}{Grand Teton Mountain Range}

“The West of which I speak is but another name for Wild, and what I have been preparing to say is that in Wilderness is the preservation of the World.” –Henry David Thoreau

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3 Comments

Filed under Adventure, Culture, Inspiration, Photography, Travel

3 responses to ““The West of which I speak is but another name for Wild.” Images of Jackson Hole

  1. I have been–but after looking at your pictures I know that it’s been way too long since. All the people look so friendly—and happy. There must be something to it. Beautiful, Emily!

  2. Love your pics and your take on the West.

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