When the backyard is occupied

I know someone who lives waaaay up in the Colorado Rockies. He had family visiting this Independence Day weekend, and planned for a cookout and other outdoor activities.

Unfortunately he was unable to use his backyard. Why?

Because it was already occupied.

They had to wait their turn.

Moose tracks

Don and I went walking yesterday, picking our way carefully amidst icy patches on the road. Suddenly we looked down and saw -- moose tracks.

Don put his size-10 snow boot right next to a pair (front hoof/back hoof) of tracks for purposes of comparison. Big mamas!

We traced the tracks up the road...

...until we saw where the animal jumped over a snow berm and headed off down a side road.

Besides sheer size, moose tracks are identifiable by a characteristic heart-shaped print. We've been having moose hanging around, so seeing prints isn't surprising. Just fun!

Those thrilling moose

When we moved to Idaho in June of 2003, the one thing I couldn't wait to see was a moose.

Why? I don't know. Maybe because they didn't exist in the parts of California or Oregon where we had previously resided. Maybe because the biologist in me has always loved ungulates of all types, and moose were kind of my "last frontier" of ungulate sightings. Whatever the reason, I really really really wanted to see a moose.

But the years went by, and no moose were to be seen -- at least by me. Don saw some. Older and Younger Daughters saw some. My parents, up visiting, saw some. But me? Zip, zilch, nada, nothing.

It got to the point of teasing. Any time a friend or neighbor spotted the elusive critter, they would call me up with glee. "Guess what I just saw?"

A few years ago, as a continuation of this ongoing dearth, Don gave me a little moose statue for Christmas. I keep it on the small shelf over the kitchen sink where I can see it daily. I -- stinkin' -- love this little moose statue.

Nonetheless, over the past 14 years I've managed to see a few rare glimpses of a moose. Rare is the key word; I'm thrilled whenever I see them.

The other day, Younger Daughter and I were heading toward town when we saw what at first we thought was a horse dash off our road and into the bramble. You guessed it.

He (or she -- without antlers it was hard to tell) looked at us calmly from behind the screen of bushes. My camera kept focusing on the branches rather than on the animal behind them, and in my haste I couldn't switch to manual focus in time, so most photos were blurry. Much of the time, all I saw were ears poking up over a snow mound.

By far the best (lucky) shot was this one:

All too soon, he made his way over an embankment and out of sight. Ah well, it was sweet for the few moments we saw him.

Love those thrilling moose! But since they're such a rare sight (at least for me), most of the time I'll have to be satisfied with my little moose statue.

And I thought MY garden deer were bad...

A friend just sent me this photo. At least I haven't had this happen in our backyard!

Mama-less moose

I was driving to our tiny town last week when I had to come to a screeching halt lest I hit... a young moose.

He skittered onto the road then dashed off again, bouncing around the unfamiliar buildings and streets with confusion.

He (or she) is clearly under a year old, probably about eight months (assuming he was born last spring). What happened to his mother? No idea. She might have been hit by a train, which is unfortunately not uncommon around here. Baby moose don't seem to do well if they lose their mothers at too young an age.

Poor little baby, I hope he makes it.

Nature: Good, Bad, and Ugly

My girls and I drove to town yesterday. Half-way down our two-mile dirt road we stopped because we saw a dark shape move off the road into the woods. Turns out to be a yearling moose, probably female although at that age males probably don't have antler stubs. She was quite unafraid of us as we sat in the truck and looked at her from about twenty feet away. Huge, mule-like ears, comical face, altogether darling.

A neighbor said the yearling has been hanging around for the last couple of weeks. Moose calves don't leave their mother for about two years, so this one's mama probably got hit by the train that skirts our peninsula two or three times a day.

I'm fond of moose, and I hope this little girl makes it. Nature can be so damned cruel at times.

I've started bringing my camera with me when we go to town, and will try to snap a pic of her.