MUSINGS

Over the past few years I've been blessed to spend many days and nights in Denali National Park.  A truly scenic place where Mt McKinley soars magically upward and countless sights amaze visitors and residents alike.  But the place really excels at what it was created for...a game preserve.  And like the majority of park visitors, I equate the success or failure of my visit with the number of animal sightings made. We all want to see bears, moose, sheep, caribou, wolves and yes, the elusive lynx. But we view these creatures in a detached way, oftentimes forgetting the very thing that makes our viewing so dramatic, the wildness of Denali.

On a recent trip into the Park, I was witness to two dramas that underscore the primally wild nature of this place.  The first involved the classic battle over whether Bear's menu should include newly born moose calf.  Bear was all in favor.  Mother Moose thought otherwise.  For about thirty minutes we watched the struggle.  Bear would maneuver trying to close the distance and Moose would counter by charging with hooves churning and teeth bared.  As much as Bear wanted the calf, I think he wanted to avoid injury more. By a large margin, we viewers were rooting for Momma and her calf.  Of course we were to a person all well fed and in no danger of starving.  As we drove away knowing the Park gods had smiled on us to allow our viewing this drama, the outcome was as yet unknown.  So we could relax safe in our belief that Bear would move along and Mom and calf would do whatever Moose do, eat willow I suppose.

The next drama unfolded just a few miles from the Park headquarters.  In an area where moose sightings are common, we spotted a days old calf hidden behind a few willow branches.  We didn't see Momma Moose.  Mewling weakly, the young calf approached our bus as if sensing perhaps therein lied safety.  To see this and not want to intervene is impossible.  The calf was so little, so scared, so vulnerable.  As we drove away, many commented that the mom must be somewhere close by and all would be well.  But to a person, I believe we understood that by morning, that poor unprotected little calf was likely to be no more.

Such is nature.  Some live.  Some die.  Such is Denali.