Floating down the Merced River, I’m overcome with a sense of peace.  The cold, clear river flows quiet and smooth.  Trout swim past.  The depth of the water changes with each stroke of the paddle. Sometimes I see the sandy bottom or smooth river rock in shades of brown, tan and beige.  Sometimes the river is shallow other times it is deep.  The silence and serenity fill me.

As I move along, I pass a lone boulder deposited from some long ago flood.  The sudden change in depth causes a ripple in the otherwise glass-like surface.  Branches and fallen trees lay on their sides, a reminder of the forces of nature.  Bird nests abound among the bushes and trees lining the river.  I blue jay swoops overhead.

In Yosemite Valley, I am surrounded by mighty granite cliffs, tall pines and cottonwoods shedding their seeds in a summer snow.  White wildflowers open to the glistening sun.  An occasional bridge and the sight of children frolicking near a sandbar remind me that I share this beautiful National Park with millions who come to visit each year.  I smile, happy to be among them.

As I exit the river, I leave nothing behind and take precious memories to last a lifetime.

What is your favorite National Park memory?