These Serendipitous Moments

We were camped at the edge of a lake along the Pacific Crest Trail, the only campers there – just me and Zillah, my faithful hiking companion. We had hiked all day and by evening were ready to snuggle into our tent. Expecting a warm evening, I had left the rainfly unzipped on the tent to hopefully catch a breeze during the night. But that is not all that we would catch. As dusk settled over the little lake Zillah leaped up, hackles raised and with her nose pressed against the bug mesh of the tent let out a low rumbling growl. Bear! I peered out the tent wondering what I should do to protect us both. The splashing from the lake told me that it was coming across the lake for us. Squinting against the darkening light I saw not a bear coming at us to tear us apart, but a herd of elk playing in the lake. They splashed in it. They chased each other. They squealed elk squeals of delight. Danger averted, Zillah and I settled back into bed and listened to the elk playing until we drifted to sleep. The next morning, I looked across the lake and one lone cow stood at the opposite shore. She trotted off into the forest when she saw me. At that moment I realized I alone had experienced that marvelous interaction.

After several years, I still treasure that evening near Fish Lake and I was reminded how special it was recently on two wildlife encounters.

The 1^st encounter occurred while walking around the grounds at American Camp in the San Juan National Historical Park. I had received advice from a couple who lived on the island regarding which fork in the trail would be the best. Their advice took we along the top of the bluffs overlooking Haro Strait towards Grandma’s Cove. The cove itself is well worth the walk but as I was just finishing up trying to capture the beauty of the cove, I turned to look into the brilliant brown eyes of a silver fox. She seemed to recognize that I was no threat to her at all and meandered around on the same bluff as I was on for 20 minutes while I happily photographed her. Finally, I decided it was time for me to head back and she decided to try hunting on another part of the bluff. All the time we spent together not a single other person joined us. It was my little moment with this beautiful creature.

A few days later, I was attending an artist and photographer retreat at Mt Baker. While many of the participants were spread out through the meadows with their easels and tripods or hiking in groups to see cloud enshrouded views, I meandered through the meadow talking to photographers and artists about the colors and inspirations. After a bit – close to lunchtime – I started back to the lodge along the road and surprised a couple of ptarmigan taking refuge in some bushes beside the road. Cars passed by as I quickly created a few images of one little gal eyeing me before jumping off her little rock. I couldn’t wait to get back to the lodge and look at the images and smiling to myself.