But Will I Make the Cover of National Geographic?

Me and bronze buffaloes.

My shot at an elk: statue at the National Museum of Wildlife Art. In the background is part of the vast range of the National Elk Refuge.

I had some very weird (but all good) things happen to me during my trip to Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons. For example, I'm at the beautiful National Museum of Wildlife Art outside Jackson Hole, Wyoming, admiring my new favorite sculpture, "A Change of Seasons" by T.D. Kelsey, which features two giant buffalo. I have to nab someone to take my picture in front of this masterpiece. There's an older gentleman and his wife in the parking lot. I'll pick on them:

Me: "Do you mind taking my photo?"
Him: "Sure will."
Me: "I have the camera all set for you. Just stand here and click."
(He quietly snaps the photo and leaves to get his car to pick up his wife.)
Her (his wife): "Do you know who just took your picture?"
Me: "Uh, no."
Her: "That's a National Geographic photographer."
Me (in complete disbelief, in the style of a blithering idiot): "Geez. What's his name?"
Her: "William Allard."
Me: "Wow."

HERE'S the info on the dude who took my photo. Do I know how to pick a photographer or what? How weird is that? More strangeness coming.