Nearly every day someone tells me that I have the dream job as a full-time wildlife photographer in Yellowstone National Park, but if they knew that a Dutch photographer nearly punched me out yesterday, when I was trying to assist a black bear in crossing the road on a blind curb, they might think again.

At this moment I am sitting in the forests fringing Yellowstone National Park in a blind, which is a camouflaged colored tent with windows that the camera lens fits through, hoping and praying that nine or ten little fox kits will come out and play. Or that their mother will return to the den with a fat juicy vole and teats filled with milk, because there is nothing like watching 10 babies running to greet mom.

The first bright spot of spring in Yellowstone is the mountain bluebird when it returns to Lamar Valley where they come to feast upon the newly hatched caddisfly that is hopping around on top of the snow near the Lamar River.

It is March madness in Yellowstone. The weather is warming, the snow is melting, the rivers rising. The bluebirds have come back to town, and every once in awhile one might see a splash of intense blue flitting across the otherwise drab landscape.