Yesterday, a moose went on the loose in the town next to mine. I live deep in the woods, surrounded by acres of trees, and the moose was out in public like it was nothing. Perusing tag sales, maybe? Lining up for soft serve. I'm talking running through residential streets and lawns, so close to people that the YouTube videos that the locals posted on the town Facebook page picked up the clippity cloppity sound of hooves on pavement. It's one of my favorite sounds that originated from my horseback riding days.
I dream of Alaska. I have driven up to the parts of Maine that aren't even on maps just to see a baby moose drinking from a pond, and large antlers emerging from the trees. I have gotten up at 5:00 am in Jackson, WY to drive to a nearby town called "Moose" that rests against the Grand Teton Mountains and along the Snake River, to see a mother and baby huddled together in a light snowfall.
I have seen moose cross the road in the middle of the Canadian night, so large and dopey-looking that my eyes played tricks on me and saw Eeyore. I have camped out for hours against state parks in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, only to be rewarded with one blurry moose in one blurry night. At other times, I have seen 20 in one long drive. I named them all after Star Wars characters.
The last three moose I saw were on a bumpy road with friends in a pickup truck - and I was so pregnant with Scarlet that I thought she'd come out every time we hit a pothole. That was one of the only times I've ever seen a moose in the middle of the day, and not at dawn and dusk after hours of searching. Sometimes you really have to know how, when and where to look, and with whom. And sometimes, you can be sitting in your backyard with a cold one (beer? soda? ice cream?) and a young moose comes traipsing through your begonias. Right place, right time? Wrong place, wrong time? Sometimes Scarlet asks to see a moose, as if you can just meet up with one in your backyard the way we met up with five bears last spring. And I tell her it's unlikely. I want her to understand the gravity of the situation - of seeing a moose. I had to wait 24 years until my first mere glimpse of a grazing female in a meadow.
Scarlet will not need to wait 24 years. Her time is coming. Whether we work for it or whether one of our area's apparently numerous moose will find its way into our line of vision. However it happens, she will know how big of a deal it is. She will see it in my tears.
It's kinda a big deal around here. Around anywhere. I married the man who idled in a hot car for hours to show me my first moose.
(This is not yesterday's moose. This is one of mine taken with a film camera in late summer, New Hampshire. 2005 ish.)
And meanwhile, during the same time and under (in) the same sky - we had a sun halo for hours yesterday!
It was kinda a big deal too. Look who pounded on the door like a caged animal to get out of the house and see the sky:
He got his way to see the sun halo. And lastly, we recently celebrated the fourth birthday of a dear friend.
Everything's coming up rainbows and moose and cupcakes this weekend.