På Tur med Ranger Tomas

Polly vågnede op på shuttle-gelænderet, mens solen stod op. En mand i en brun uniform låste en lille kontorbygning op på den anden side af pladsen. Hans navneskilt sagde T. RODRIGUEZ. Han kiggede på hende og smilede. "Du kan køre med mig," sagde han.

Polly woke up on the shuttle railing as the sun came up. A man in a brown uniform was unlocking a small office across the lot. His name patch said T. RODRIGUEZ. He looked at her and smiled. "You can ride with me," he said.

Sådan tilbragte Polly morgenen i en rangerbil.

That was how Polly spent the morning in a ranger's truck.

Tomas havde været ranger i Yosemite i fjorten år. Han havde kaffe i en termokande, en clipboard og en radio, der knitrede. Han kørte langsomt. Han stoppede ofte.

Tomas had been a Yosemite ranger for fourteen years. He had coffee in a Thermos, a clipboard, and a radio that crackled. He drove slowly. He stopped often.

Det første stop var en våd eng. Tomas gik ud i græsset og ledte efter tegn på, at bjørne havde været der. "I juni vokser der kornliljer her," sagde han. "Bjørne elsker dem. Vi markerer engene, hvor de spiser."

The first stop was a wet meadow. Tomas walked into the grass and looked for signs that bears had been there. "In June, corn lilies grow here," he said. "Bears love them. We mark the meadows where they feed."

Polly hoppede hen til det åbne bilvindue. Kornliljerne var endnu ikke oppe. De var bare små grønne spyd.

Polly hopped to the open truck window. The corn lilies were not up yet. They were just small green spears.

Vejen steg. Luften blev køligere. Ved en hårnålesving stoppede Tomas og pegede. En vandrefalk sad på en klippe. Pollys røde hoved vippede. Falken kiggede på dem, så kastede den sig fra klippen og var væk på mindre end et sekund.

The road climbed. The air cooled. At a switchback, Tomas stopped and pointed. A peregrine falcon was sitting on a rock. Polly's red head tilted. The falcon looked at them, then dropped off the rock and was gone in less than a second.

"De bygger rede på klipperne," sagde Tomas. "Vi har seks par i dalen i år."

"They nest on the cliffs," Tomas said. "We have six pairs in the valley this year."

Polly så, hvordan falken foldede sine vinger. Hun ville gerne prøve det fald selv. Måske i morgen.

Polly watched how the falcon had folded its wings. She wanted to try that drop herself. Maybe tomorrow.

Ved det næste stop gik Tomas alene ind i skoven. Han kom tilbage med en metalcylinder. "Bjørnesikker madkasse, som nogen forsøgte at begrave," sagde han. Han lagde den i ladet på bilen.

At the next stop, Tomas walked into the woods alone. He came back with a metal cylinder. "Bear-proof food locker someone tried to bury," he said. He put it in the truck bed.

Ved middagstid nåede de til Olmsted Point. Det høje landskab åbnede sig foran dem. Tenaya-søen langt nede. Half Dome set bagfra. Grå bjergtoppe, der forsvandt i disen.

At noon they came to Olmsted Point. The high country opened in front of them. Tenaya Lake far below. Half Dome from behind. Grey peaks fading into haze.

"Dette," sagde Tomas, "er den del, de fleste bare kører forbi." Han hældte kaffe i låget på sin termokande og satte det på instrumentbrættet ved siden af Polly. "Bliv lidt."

"This," Tomas said, "is the part most people drive past." He poured coffee into the lid of his Thermos and set it on the dashboard next to Polly. "Stay a while."