Posts Tagged ‘Wyoming’

By the time many of you read this, I’ll be in my van on the road to Wyoming.  So it’s the start of a three-week blogging break for me.  Our internet connection at 7,000′ is quite slow, which is fine, as I’ll be spending my time riding, reading, hiking, and relaxing.  My parents will also be visiting for about a week, although unfortunately, my husband can’t make it. But I imagine I’ll be popping in to Instagram from time to time.  In the meantime, have a wonderful time wherever you are and whatever you’re doing.  When I get back, I’ll have lots of information and photos for posts, although I haven’t finished with France yet.  Isn’t travel grand?  Blessings to all of you and I’ll be back soon.

Headed toward this view…

© janet m. webb

Our  Thursday Doors time capsule (no photo of the door available) hurtles us back this week past millions of doors to the year 2010, before TD was a tiny, hobbit-sized door idea in Norm’s mind.

Since I was in college, I’ve been going to Wyoming at some point during the summer, missing only a few years in all that time.  For many years, my parents were there all summer, so when our girls were very young, we stayed in the cabin of a friend of the family, giving everyone more space and privacy.  The cabin was heated only by this wood-burning stove and despite it being summer, there were often days when we needed that heat.  (There were years when it snowed in June!)  My husband or I would get up quietly in the morning, get the fire going, then head back to bed until the main room warmed up, although sometimes I would get dressed and sit outside with a cup of tea, watching moose or just relaxing.  This was definitely a working stove!

When our older daughter was old enough to take care of the fire, she would often get it stoked up before we went out for a horseback ride, which felt great in the morning.  However, the cabin roof caught the sun about mid-morning, so sometimes we would come back to a cabin so hot we had to open the door and all the windows in an effort to make it bearable.  🙂

© janet m. webb 2010


“Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but inside it’s so delightful” could have been written for our Chicago-area weather the last week.  Snow, cold temperatures, and frigid windchill have ushered us into winter…and I’m fine with that.  I went for a walk this morning with a friend who has two dogs.  We walk once a week in almost all sorts of weather.  I found that my years-old ski gloves are still warm and wonderful.  🙂  Truth be told, the cold kept away people from the Bureau of Motor Vehicles, so I was able to walk in and immediately get the tag for my van.  Gotta love that!!

This week, the Photo Challenge theme is “Anticipation.”  I’ll eschew the first things that come to mind at this time of year:  family being all together for Christmas, the house being decorated, Christmas Eve service.  But what does that leave me?

Those of you who know me know that the place dear to my heart is in the mountains of Wyoming.  I feel anticipation for all road trips, but that one fills me with joy.  I (and then we) have traveled the same route more or less since I was in college many, many years ago, so I see familiar spots as we drive along.  But this is the sight that makes my soul brim with happiness almost too great to be contained, because it means we’ve almost arrived.

© janet m. webb 2016


One of the things I really love about blogging is that chance to meet people from all over the world.  One of these is Kiwi Su Leslie at Zimmerbitch.  A mutual blogging acquaintance, Leanne (a Kiwi currently in Japan; see what I mean?), invited Su to talk part in the “3 days, 3 quotes” challenge, part of which includes nominating three more bloggers in each post. Su invited me and I’ve accepted the challenge.


It’s Friday once again (are there more Fridays and Mondays than other days?) and time again for the Weekly Photo Challenge.   It’s another grey day in Chicagoland, threatening more rain that we no longer need.  I’d send some to California if I could just figure out the logistics.  But here at WordPress, there have been several weeks of colorful themes to brighten the days, and I’ve enjoyed them.

This week’s theme is “Muse .”  Nature tends to be my muse for photography, but there’s a specific place that I come back to fill my cup: these mountains in Wyoming. While any mountains will do, as will the ocean or a walk in “my” park, this is where that last piece of the puzzle slots into place, making me feel whole again.

Sit back with a cup of your favorite tea (or coffee, if you must) and enjoy the photos and stories for this week.  Have a wonder-filled weekend, filled with time for rest and refreshment.

Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity.
John Muir, Our National Parks


Mountains seem to answer an increasing imaginative need in the West. More and more people are discovering a desire for them, and a powerful solace in them. At bottom, mountains, like all wildernesses, challenge our complacent conviction – so easy to lapse into – that the world has been made for humans by humans. Most of us exist for most of the time in worlds which are humanly arranged, themed and controlled. One forgets that there are environments which do not respond to the flick of a switch or the twist of a dial, and which have their own rhythms and orders of existence. Mountains correct this amnesia. By speaking of greater forces than we can possibly invoke, and by confronting us with greater spans of time than we can possibly envisage, mountains refute our excessive trust in the man-made. They pose profound questions about our durability and the importance of our schemes. They induce, I suppose, a modesty in us.”
Robert Macfarlane, Mountains of the Mind: Adventures in Reaching the Summit

The Which Way Challenge asks for photos that show us which way to go: the attractive path, bridge, road, river that leads us on and on.  Mine is a view of which my family never tires and hope to see for the rest of our lives. This is, and hopefully remains, the road less traveled.