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Show IV. over a cup of tea. I notice, in general, that almost every valued friend from the past fifteen years sooner or later shows up at the meadows and comes for a visit. In other words, Tuolumne Meadows has never been a wilderness for me. Living here has always had its sense of community. I believe it is a good place for my young son to spend his first summer, and perhaps every summer thereafter, because it has been such a good place for Valerie and me. But I wonder about the changes since Muir was here, and perhaps more importantly since I have been coming. A scholar once asked me why I could not simply write a natural history of John Muir, why I had to talk about myself, and this is the answer to his question. It was early summer and the river was high as I crossed the bridge and walked across the meadow. The old Mountaineer's Center was being dedicated as the new Tuolumne Meadows Visitor's Center. It was a short walk, and Jesse made appreciat. noises as he watched the glittering mountain bluebirds we flushed out of a small lodgepole which had taken root in the old road cut that bisected the meadow. As usual, he had great expectations. Every time he was put in his pack, that meant adventure. He could hardly wait. I had smaller expectati< I wanted to see the Visitor's Center, particularly because it was being created on a "John Muir Theme," but I knew enough about N.P.S. Visitor's Centers to suspect that this one would be like all the rest. Somehow it was true; they were all the |