I walked past the hundreds of people sitting on the benches, 20 minutes early for the eruption. It was interesting scanning through the crowd of the varied spectacle of tourists. I liked watching the families the best - the parents who brought their young childen to our great national park. It would be something these kids will remember, as my kids probably will. The impressions of the great falls, of the solitary old bull buffalo, standing alone, or the herds of buffalo and elk with their new babies, of the steaming white mud pots like hot pancake batter, of the emerald blue hot springs, all will imprint a young mind forever. I was 36 before I first visited Yellowstone; now at 45, this is my fifth trip back.

I stopped to read a sign about the Marmots and squirrels near the geysers, who in recent years have been losing their hair. The sign said park naturalists do not know why this is happening, but suspect it is because they are getting junk food handouts. A young boy stepped in front of me. His Dad scolded him, telling him to not block my view. I said it was ok. The Dad replied, 'Well he has to learn to be considerate.' I walked a few steps and looked back at the wiry Dad in baseball cap, with his crowd of 5 or 6 children around him. I sensed a strong person, a man who will inspire and teach his children, passing on his depth of character to them.

I found an open spot on the very north side of the geyser and sat down at the edge of the asphalt path. As I waited for the eruption I noticed a group of six people in front of me. 5 sat on the bench; one young woman with a camera stood beside them. Eventually I discovered that there was a family of four and an elderly couple. The two middle aged parents sat next to their younger daughter on the bench, next to the elderly man and woman. The attractive older daughter stood beside the bench and chatted with all of them. She seemed full of life. They all impressed me as nice people. I figured by how they acted that none of them had seen Old Faithful before. I heard only bits and pieces of their conversations - were they were from, etc.,

Old Faithful shot a small jolt of water up 15 feet or so, then calmed down again. The father said 'I hope that is not it', but that was it for now. As the minutes passed on they stopped talking among themselves, but quietly waited in anticipation. Time slowed down. No Eruption yet.

A gust of wind blew in our faces, immediately followed by the start of the first geyser burst. 'Oh look, there it is', said the older girl with the camera. A cloud of steam shot up 75 feet, followed by repeated powerful skyward shots. The elderly lady clasped her mouth with her hands in emotion.

After several minutes of clouds of steam and water vapor bursting and floating up towards the sun, the wind again gusted towards us. It carried the Old Faithful moisture to us, showering our bodies with a fine mist, which felt cool in the afternoon heat. The middle aged man said something about 'you could not buy perfume that good'; The cloud of steam went in front of the sun, leaving us in the shadow of the geyser.

This again was one of those moments I did not expect. I have heard it said that people who are truly alive fall in love several times a day, with someone or some natural thing (the manner of light on a tree, the smile on child's face, a glance, the clarity of early morning light). On this day the eruption, the wind, the fine mist of Old Faithful mixing with the tears of emotion on the faces of the people I stood by, was something that a person could damn sure fall in love with on the spot. They did not know it, but these six people made this special for me again, in witnessing their excitement and wonderment and reverence, in sharing their love for this land.