Now that it’s fall, passers by will often see me in my favorite green pullover with “Teton Valley, Idaho” written on it underneath a drawing of Idaho’s mountain-scape. Every once in a while I have someone stop me to tell me they’ve been camping, hiking, or biking there.
My grandpa grew up in Teton Valley, as did much of my extended family. In an effort to remain close to each other, we have an annual family reunion, camping for a weekend in the valley. Traditions we have include horseback riding, hiking, jewelry making, and taking the kids to the creek to watch them try and cross and eventually fall in. I remember on my first reunion, I ran out of socks in two days because I’d gotten all of them wet. On the last night, we have a raffle to give away prize items that range from Teton merchandise to family-made blankets, necklaces and paintings. That’s where I got my pullover from.
But the most incredible experience I’ve had there was a couple years ago. Teton Valley happened to be in the center of a lunar eclipse. For a brief moment the entire world in front of me was bathed in a tangerine twilight. Cameras couldn’t capture it properly. The redness of the mountain, the warmth bouncing off each needle of pine. The campfire sent a bright red hue onto the kid’s faces, as they held still in wonder for the first time in that whole weekend. I saw a gleam in the eye of Aunt Doris, who objected to being wheeled out of her trailer that evening, but was finally convinced the cold would be worth it. A tear rolled down my cheek when I looked next to me at my mother’s water-welled eyes, and wide grin. She’s the one that convinced everyone it would be worth coming to watch this feat of nature. The eclipse was the moment that the biggest space nerd of the family’s dreams came true.
The lunar eclipse’s center will not be in the United States again for a long time. It feels almost like fate that the valley which holds so much of my family history became the epicenter of this breathtaking event.
The pandemic has meant that I could not hear that creek skip over stones, horses clop up the trail, or the campfire crackling under moonlight this year. It’s meant that I couldn’t pick huckleberries in the valley and blend them into milkshakes or savor their unique tang. But I’ll look forward to the next time I see my aunties knitting blankets outside their trailers, while their kids roast marshmallows. Teton Valley will always have more memories with my family to unlock, and more places to fill in my heart.
I’m someone who never wants my knowledge of how people make their way through the world to stagnate. So I’ll keep studying psychology, philosophy, writing, and music, as my outlets to understand them better, and hopefully travel to get my chance to meet them. Then maybe, we might get to change just a little bit of each other’s lives.
