Scorpions, Bears, Rainbows and Waterfalls: Easter at Yosemite
Not every Easter starts with a scorpion sting. But that’s how mine began—just after stepping out of the shower and grabbing a bath towel that turned out to be already occupied. The little stinger wasn’t too thrilled about being lifted skyward, and neither was I. It got my hand (thankfully not anything more... personal), and after a very short and careful towel-dry, we made a gametime decision: skip medical attention and get to Yosemite in time for Easter morning service.
We pulled into Yosemite Valley just in time to join the congregation gathered at the little chapel nestled near the old village site—one of the oldest buildings in the park and one of only a handful of chapels that hold regular services inside a national park (others include Rocky Mountain, Grand Canyon, and Great Smoky Mountains). On this Easter morning, the message of resurrection echoed against the granite cliffs as one solo park minister led us through music, liturgy, and preaching—all with a guitar and a warm smile.
As we stepped out the chapel doors, we could hear Upper Yosemite Falls roaring down the opposite cliff face and see it glistening under a clear, blue sky. We walked the meadow trail toward Lower Yosemite Falls, where the mist cooled us down from the 70 degrees that felt hotter from direct sun. Carolina and James ran ahead, darting between trees, playing their own version of hide-and-seek with every pine trunk. Poky was thrilled to be allowed on the paved trail—his spaniel energy dialed up—as he tugged toward every water source in sight.
But the real surprise came after the falls: a mama bear and her yearling, freshly out of hibernation, flipping logs and tree stumps for insects. We'd just reviewed “what to do if you see a bear” over dinner the night before, so the kids held their ground on the trail, watching quietly from a safe distance—unlike some of the selfie-happy tourists pushing towards the bears. Poky, meanwhile, could not understand why they got to splash in streams while he remained on leash. Life is full of injustices, especially if you're a dog.
Later, we walked the short trail to Bridalveil Falls, where the mist turned into more of a full-on soak. But it was worth it: the late afternoon light hit just right, casting a full rainbow that felt like we could reach out and touch it.
On our drive out of the valley, we stopped to stare straight up at El Capitan, craning our necks so far back we nearly tipped over. We reminded the kids that their uncle had climbed it—and how one of his friends had even done it free solo. None of us could quite grasp what it would be like to climb that towering, vertical rock face.
It was a perfect spring day—warm, clear, and bursting with new life. Between scorpions, bears, waterfalls, and rainbows, Yosemite gave us everything we could have hoped for on Easter Sunday. A reminder, in every direction, of just how awe-inspiring God’s creation really is.
