At Dry Island Buffalo Jump Provincial Park in Alberta,
looking down from the ridge into the Badlands,
I am mesmerized by the gracefulness
of a soaring red-tailed hawk.
My goal is to hike to Dry Island,
for which the park is named,
a high plateau covered in virgin prairie grass.
The area has never been developed, and bison,
which once covered the prairies in herds as far as the eye could see,
could not get to the plateau.
The park is the site of an ancient Cree buffalo jump,
where large numbers of bison
were herded over the cliffs
to provide food for the tribes.
It’s also a hotbed of Albertosaurus bones,
although I personally don’t see any dinosaur bones while hiking.
No doubt I walk right past some,
since paleontologists seem to find them every few steps,
but I don’t have the trained eye for such things.
(“This is a piece of a dinosaur bone”,
a paleontologist once told me,
holding up what appeared to me to be a small stone.
“Fascinating”, I said, stifling a yawn.)
I do, however, find some bones
from a more-recently killed animal,
but I don’t know enough about these things
to be able to identify the creature.
I also discover some large broken eggs that,
although there are 150 different bird species in the area,
I imagine are really dinosaur eggs.
Such is the mysteriousness and romantic nature of the park.
I meet my goal, which isn’t especially difficult,
since the Dry Island plateau is less than an hour’s walk away.
But there is just so much to explore along the route
that it takes me most of the afternoon.
Forever now, I can tell the world that I have
walked through ancient grasses.
