Mother’s Day Moose

Mother’s Day was spent enjoying an afternoon drive north and west to outrun the rain clouds associated with the front running downeast along the Maine coast Sunday. The skies were dark from overcast clouds shedding light drizzle to occasional showers. The forecasts for almost the entire state of Maine held no hope for sun and little hope for dry overcast skies. But on the western edge towards the White Mountains and Rangeley, the forecast called for clearing skies by afternoon. I was in the mood for a Mother’s Day meander and we headed out about noon for Rangeley via Route 4. It was a successful tactic, yielding more than drier skies for sightseeing. Just below Smalls Falls (just outside of Rangeley) we spotted a mother moose and her calf pretending to be trees about 30 feet from the road.

We stopped the SUV and backed up to position ourselves to see them from across the right side of the road. I didn’t dare ask to position the car any better for fear of spooking them deeper into the woods. She kept her calf behind her and vigilantly kept her eye on us.

The mother reminded me of popular wolf pictures depicting wolves gazing out from behind trees. The eyes stare at me, knowing me for who I am and watching. She almost decided against walking towards us.

Would she have stayed if I had been in a pickup truck instead of my SUV? Was it the SUV shape that convinced her I was harmless? Would she have approached the road to drink the salty runoff if she didn’t need the salt?

Six minutes. It felt like fifteen. Time enough for 52 images. Enough images to review their behavior from the luxury of my large computer screen to see what transpired in those short six minutes.

Her body color of mixed and patchy grey on the front half camouflaged her form as it split the front grey half from being perceived as part of the darker solid brown of the back half. Her front body looked like tree and her back as forest shadow.

Her head with its rectangular shape looks more like a horizontal tree trunk than the head of an animal.

This forest habitat clearly shows off their entire bodies and their long legs, so often invisible beneath the deep waters of streams where they are more often photographed in Maine.

I expected more motion from them. They were still and peaceful. Not the quivering nervousness of deer. She was regal and queen-like. And when they left, they quietly walked away and disappeared into the trees.