Elk Bugling

When I was a young girl, we lived near Estes Park, in Colorado. I have a vivid, sweet memory of striking out one crisp, fall afternoon with my family and my best friends' family in search of bugling elk. We found a field with hundreds of elk grazing. While we sat in the ancient, white station wagon eating white bread and vegetarian turkey sandwiches, we listened to a magnificent chorus of screeches and squeaks. For some reason, that memory has gone with me and become one of comfort.
So on this trip to Yellowstone National Park, I told The Wood Artist that one of my main objectives was to hear the elk. We entered the Park's North gate and proceeded to the village of Mammoth. Imagine my surprise when we found a herd of elk right in the village, resting and grazing in the shade of the buildings. One bull strutted around proudly. He would swagger through his harem and in one glance rearrange them. Then, in one magical moment, he stretched his neck out and let go a magnificent screech.
Now, I live in a wild place and get rather used to bears, deer and other wild things. But, I think that moment rivaled the day I saw 10 grizzlies in one hike! O.k. I know that sounds nuts, but maybe it was the emotional tie to my childhood. Whatever it was, I was instantly hungry for squishy white bread and turkey sandwiches!

More on our trip to Yellowstone coming.