Last spring while willow bashing, we hiked into a pair of newborn moose calves.
It was scary since a mother moose can be dangerous in her protective state and we didn’t initially see her.
We abandoned our push for the summit and hightailed it back the way we came.
The mother was 100 metres away on a ridge, running back and forth, frantic.
Meanwhile, one calf staggered off to hide under a stunted spruce tree while its twin on the cutest wobbly legs began stumbling towards us, bleating a most mournful cry.
At this point my chest hurt for the thumping of my heart.
Only once we backtracked and put considerable distance between the calves and us, the twin rejoined its sibling beneath the spruce and the mother calmed.
This spring I went for a trail run and stumbled upon a moose tucked in a deep thicket. I spotted her only when she woofed at me. I responded by running out of the woods. I’m not sure if she had a calf but I wasn’t sticking around to find out.
I always try to give wildlife their space and never approach them. I don’t try to get a photo before retreating. That’s why I don’t have many awesome photos from these encounters.
All I can do is write a blog post about it.