Sunny Day Flowers
A place I remembered well, where dreams were born, and memories made.
This was where children learned, loved, laughed, growing while they played.
A place I remembered well, where dreams were born, and memories made.
This was where children learned, loved, laughed, growing while they played.
It was Thursday night, the final night of ‘Skills Week’. This was the first week back on the ice for the Flames players. The event was set up as a kick off to the 2022-2023 hockey season.
After my searing hike up Saddle Pass and around the loop trail, and a quick visit to Wall Drug, I returned for my final evening in Badlands National Park. Also, I had decided on doing a couple more hikes, albeit very short hikes.
After a 700+ mile drive from Illinois to South Dakota on a Thursday in June. I enjoyed a gorgeous evening visit to Badlands National Park. As darkness fell, I returned to Wall, SD for a good night’s rest while looking forward to spending the next day (Friday) at the park.
I was on my own. On the road. My schedule. I could go where I wanted when I wanted to. I was out west and I was there to explore. After taking a left at Minnesota, I eventually drove into Wall, SD to check into my room and take a deep breath. I had covered more than 2,030 miles in two-plus days. I was tired but the lure of the next adventure kept me in motion.
They say that “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step”. I guess it was the Chinese that said it, but regardless, it’s true. So, I figured that a trip consisting of 10,000 plus miles also started the same way. On June 14, 2022 I put the years of planning into action.
Winter Snowfall 2021-2022 (starts with the first snowfall of the season)
Time waits for no one, and the summer hours pass so quickly, So we gathered for a few moments to camp again with the QCMOTC. Ya, I know, life is so busy and we… QCMOTC Goes Camping 2022
June 12, 2022 ~ Lloyd Alton Peterson
Like so many times before, I get to this space, and the page is blank. I am contending with countless thoughts, but none of them are a beginning. Memories speed past me like pickup trucks would if I were standing still on the shoulder of I-95 between Old Town and Island Falls.