The sounds of Yellowstone

Chirp, chirp of the pika, a small hamster like animal, daring us to find him among the talus. Introduced to us by Ken who takes special trips to Sheepeater Cliff to watch out for them.

The strange call of the elk, mother to calf, calf to mother, enticing us to look for them up in the hills.

Falling asleep to the Screech, screech! of the Screech Owl nesting somewhere in Fort Yellowstone.

The grunting of the bison, who are nearing rutting season, which seems to be driving the young males crazy. The older males strut about the herd, already picking out their mating partner, while the young males run around in circles, occasionally doing some experimental head butting, preparing for the fights to come.

"Step away from the elk," blares the Park Ranger's bullhorn, warning visitors that it is not okay to pet the elk, much less try to sit on them.

High pitched whistles coming from the yard. Is it a bird? No, it's a "whistle pig", otherwise known as an uinta ground squirrel.

The thrum of an overloaded washing machine, which apparently only bothers me as Alex drifts off to sleep mid-sentence in his book at 10 o'clock at night. (Ah, to be a heavy sleeper.)

"Squawk, squawk," chatters the magpie, sitting in a crook of the aspen outside my window. Is he talking to me?

Thanks to Alex's careful conditioning, I look up from my post at the front desk everytime I hear the distinctive rumbling of a pack of Harley-Davidson motorcycles driving by the hotel.