A witch hunt is underway. We’ve faced many before. Take a breath. Stay grounded. The sky hums with old songs no one remembers, while paper boats glide through puddles full of questions. Echoes of yesterday wander the quiet halls of today, and a restless compass spins, chasing dreams not yet named. Still, in the midst of the noise and motion, our purpose stands steady—unchanged and quietly certain. The code word is: “Ro-Sham-Bo.” Dig me? Ro-Sham-Bo. You have your orders now. Go, man, go!
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Category: Alt National Park Service