People always remark of how different Jackson must be from Chicago. But to me the greatest difference isn’t being surrounded by mountains or having the nearest shopping mall located in a different state (whassup Idaho Falls!). The greatest difference is the way people’s hearts and minds vibrate at a different frequency out here. The greatest difference is the Jackson Spirit.

It’s the Patagonia they wear, their tan faces, the dogs in the bed of their pickup trucks.

It’s the casual dropping of words like “gnarly”, keeping your car keys on your front tire, keeping a smile for every stranger you meet.

It’s the barefooted guy dancing in the dirt at the Grand Targhee Bluegrass Festival, proudly shoeless for three days.

It’s a camp party and committing to making morel mushroom flatbread over a bonfire, yet abandoning any commitments before 4 pm the next day.

It’s the river on a Saturday afternoon and doing back flips off “Jumping Rock” until your back turns so red– either from the water’s impact or from not bothering to wear sunscreen.

It’s the winding road that led you here. It’s the book of your life and only the chapters you feel like reading. It’s the Wyoming heritage you make for yourself.

It’s the stuff that makes me shake my head. It’s the stuff I admire. Because it’s everything I could never capture in a blog post and mostly things I’ve never before captured in myself.

Moment of Gratitude: It’s realizing that maybe that’s okay, maybe that’s why I’m here. Because maybe I have something to contribute to the spirit too. Maybe we all do.

p.s. and it’s written like my favorite song of the summer, “A Little Bit of Everything”: