More Baba

The ranger station was passing out boxed lunches and cups of coffee. Baba took hers away from the buses and stood gazing over the park as she ate. A little furry creature came out of its burrow among low-growing yellow flowers and sat up on its haunches to watch her eat. Smart little grey thing, thought Baba. Enough human and engine smells up here to give foxes and lynx a hard time sniffing you out. And we tourists may leave crumbs about for your dinner. There is somebody from your tribe to feed predators the world over - prairie dogs, chipmunks, ground squirrels, deer mice, gerbils, meerkats, lemurs, lemmings, voles . . . Here you need to look out for ravens and eagles. She tossed crusts from her sandwich near the rascal just as Nessie came up. “I don't think we're supposed to feed the rats,” said Nessie, putting Baba between herself and the rodent. “Probably not,” said Baba. “I think it's a ground squirrel. It has a short bushy tail.” The little grey burrower had stuffed its cheeks full of bread crusts and disappeared among the yellow flowers. “Well,” Nessie announced, “ Louisa is planning what we're going to do for dinner when we get back, so I thought you'd want to hear. You haven't said a word all morning. Are you feeling all right?” “Yes, thank you,” said Baba. “This is the high point of the trip for me. I just want to watch the landscape slide past. You can tell me what we're supposed to do when we get back.” Baba didn't think Nessie would understand if she said that she wasn't really inside the bus at all but flying over the moss and lichen and soaring with the golden eagles as if she were in a trance or a dream. She felt wonderful without any contact from her fellow travelers. She wondered if the National Geographic or the Travel Channel could make films like this, the camera flying through the scenery with very little narration so that she and others could sit in their rocking chairs and travel the beautiful places left on earth. She didn't want to see Disney worlds or cities except perhaps ancient ones, just pictures from places she was growing too old to visit. No wind in her face, but better than nothing to take her out of herself and the realization she was growing decrepit. On the return trip, Baba's right side window let her look down the slopes into the broad valley. She offered to let Nessie sit by the window, but Nessie said she found the empty landscapes too desolate and boring. Other passengers must have lost interest in what they were passing because nobody called out that there were wolves traveling along in a river. Black and white and grey, the leader could have been a sled dog or a K9 unit for the state police. Ears up, tongue lolling, tail held high, the wolf trotted through the water as if it were master of the whole territory. Baba counted eight others, some grey with black and white markings and some completely black. Tears came to her eyes, tears of wonder and joy that these citizens of Denali could live out their lives without being hunted by ranchers or sportsmen in helicopters with high-powered rifles. She kept them for herself and didn't call out. Long ago, right after her divorce but before she moved to New Mexico, Baba had read Women Who Run with the Wolves by Clarissa Pincola Estes. She had been delighted by the stories and examples, which she hoped applied to her, of strong, independent women who were not afraid to take risks. Now here right below her were the kind of companions she lacked on this bus. For just a few moments Baba imagined herself splashing along in that cold water her pack. She watched until the bus turned a corner and she could only send them her blessings. So that her passengers could observe the Dall sheep again, the driver parked by the side of the road where no guard rail separating the vehicle from a long steep slope to the valley. Baba had seen few guard rails along any of this road even though it was on the side of mountains. Many people from the left side of the bus came over to Baba's side to take pictures. Some one asked if any buses had fallen off these slopes and the bus driver laughed. “One or two,” she said, “when everyone was on one side taking pictures.” The photographers hurried to sit down. Baba saw fewer wild creatures on their return trip. The ginger bears had finished their sunbathing session and disappeared into the brush. The caribou were gone, too. The driver pointed out more golden eagles and ravens, but for the most part Baba savored only the wild flowers on wide slopes. They were enough. Nessie had turned around to chat with Louisa and Mina. Haley and Bianca were texting away. But Baba knew she would always remember what she had seen - green and gold land, ringed by gleaming white peaks, unspoiled and unpopulated except for wild creatures. She sent a prayer to the mountain. Guard that place, she prayed. Don't let them find gold or oil or anything else to tear up the territory.