Big Bend National Park.

The sign announced my rival in the familiar front of all National Park Service communication.

The Rangers Booth beyond it grew large as I approached. I slowed to halt alongside the squat yellow hut and paused my podcast.

Afternoon friend, the attending ranger greeted me with a bored smile that reached barely to the corners of a mouth.

I nodded my head in response.

Entrance fee increased to $30 this year, she intoned, we can take cash or card.

I fished my wallet from the backpack on the seat next to me and handed her two-. She returned a ten but kept a hold of the bill

as she handed it through the window. Be safe out there.

We locked eyes and she fixed me with a meaningful glare but seemed to say that she was more

concerned with my behavior than my safety.

And don't talk to the animals.

She relinquished the change.

I shook my head, marveling at the strange warning and drove on, hitting play at my phone.

Indeed, listener, it's best if you don't acknowledge these creatures at all.

The podcast of the program, in a tone that he no doubt imagined to convey solemn gravitas.

Cheasy music and a cheap howling wind sound effect signaled the end of the episode.

I fiddled with my phone, tapping it into a... Signal the end of the episode.

I fiddled with my phone, tapping it into a playlist I labeled Old News.

The Eagles crooned back at me.

The sound cut out.

I wrestled with the auxiliary cord that connected my phone to the car speakers and glanced at the

home screen.

...