Mary Winston Nicklin

I was walking along a trail in Yellowstone National Park, meditating on mountains, breathing in the scent of pine and sagebrush, when a llama sneezed in my ear. With bear spray strapped to my waist, I had been expecting to be startled by another kind of animal. But Sarek, the llama I was leading on our hike, had evidently inhaled an unwanted element as he snacked on grass and brush. I yelped as loud as a coyote.

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