Honestly this one.
And there’s one every year, too. One smart enough to both figure out the timing between the ticks of the electric fence and that for all my yelling and thing waving I’m really not as scary as I try to look.
Friday’s experiment was to determine whether wood is cow food.
Conclusion: they do not know the question is confusing please do not repeat it.
Friday ended with a beautiful blushing sunset.
Saturday opened with a similar sunrise. I snapped a photo and started on my way to the back of the house to get on with my morning routine.
But when I got about halfway down the hall I decided to head back and get the coffee started first.
I think somebody must have heard me saying “gorgeous”.
And naturally assumed.
Our local ravens were being very active. I did make a note of that. One does.
And then off on errands. I decided to pick up a cheap set of oil pastels to play with. Never used them before, but I’m drawn to their superior lifestyle flexibility over paint. The only local option is one of those epic, religious box stores. Apparently there’s a holiday coming up.
I dunno. I think they worship some deity that brings them presents if they invest in enough home decor or something.
The gods of road food did smile upon us, and we did celebrate them in the presence of many geese, doggies, and one very remarkably chill muskrat at the local off leash park.
I really should get one of those whatchamacallems. Car seats.
Yes of course I’m kidding. She did enjoy exploring the wonderland that is the front seat.
And then Sunday was much the same. After a week of overtime Captain Combine Repair was called into action again so we went back into town to tend to the errands from his list. The day was cold, grey and horribly windy. I passed another gathering of ravens on the guardrail alongside our creek system near home. It’s a dangerous crossing area for animals. I wondered what had happened, but it didn’t seem too mysterious.
When we arrived home we were informed that a Fish and Wildlife officer had been by to let us know that a moose had been poached and dumped there.
Just heart sick. And livid. And so very worried.
I’d only seen two of our three moose on my last couple of sightings. I couldn’t stop staring into the field, hoping to see just one. Knowing that the animals were always together and that a hunter without integrity would not concern him or herself about making sure it was a clean shot before firing. Was one of them out there wounded or something? Were any of them even left out there?
We couldn’t have felt more like the day looked.
And then the universe gave us a beautiful gift. All three moose. Beautiful and healthy and scrambling for the treeline to get out of the wind.
Our household includes a former law enforcement officer from a law enforcement family, and the local Fish and Game officer is all over this. We’re an everybody knows each other and everything that goes on kind of community, and we all like our moose, so those poachers made a very bad decision when they decided to engage in their blunt headed destruction round here.
But we did get a gift. To see them and know they’re all there, and they’re all okay. I don’t think I ask a lot in general these days. I haven’t wanted anything that badly for awhile now. I am grateful.