Moose Munch

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October 19, 2012 by hookershorde

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Moose Munch (October 19th, 2012)

 

I’m a city girl.  Okay, not really.  I grew up in the suburbs of Salt Lake City in the Eighties. 

 

But, I didn’t grow up in an outdoor-sy family.  To get back to nature, my dad would pitch his old green army tent in the backyard.  As I recall, we camped in the great outdoors once.  I repressed it.

 

At 23, I married a mountain man.  Okay, not really.  He was a Playboy photographer who built a cabin at Sundance in the same spot where Jeremiah Johnson was filmed.

 

We moved to Sundance and, within the first week, I woke up to a pair of piercing gray eyes and a cold nose.  I nudged my beloved; “there’s a wolf in our bedroom.”  (Turned out, it was the neighbor’s Husky, Shiggy.  Shiggy didn’t like weather and, since we didn’t lock our door, he pushed his way in, walked up the stairs and woke me up.)

 

Over the next decade, I met moose, porcupines, wild turkeys (not in the bottle), raccoons (the one who destroyed my Subaru deserves his own story), cougars, and even baby black bears, at Sundance.  My Grandpa Mac told me, “Plan on losing one of your dogs if you run into a mama moose and her babies or a cougar.”

 

After my Samoyed was skunked, I developed a healthy respect for those with whom I shared the mountain.

 

Now, I live in Park City, Utah in a suburban-like neighborhood where the houses are close.  When I arrived home, my neighbor was parked in front of my house watching a mama moose poop in the yard next to mine.  The mama moose and her babies spent the day licking the trees clean of leaves while I took pictures from my front door, from the window on the landing, and from the deck outside my bedroom.

 

Majestic.

 

Moose are majestic.

 

Like the mountains where they live, they are big.

 

In the fall, their brown fur blends into the leaves.  It’s easy for them to hunker into the landscape – camouflaged. 

 

But, last Saturday, they were so close, I could’ve touched them.

 

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