Gamlin Lake Moods

Trees don't snort, usually. This is my experience, but I definitely heard a snort.

I was stepping off the trail and stumbling through deep grass that hid fallen trees that I kept tripping over. I was carrying my camera and concentrating on not falling. The trail was taking us away from the shore and I wanted to stay closer to the shore to look for ducks or other wildlife. Hence my desire to walk off the trail.

The day turned out to be very nice. We have been suffering under cold rain for about three or four weeks but now there was a little sun.

Mollie was out ahead of me ten feet or so when there was that snort, like a horse might make. I lifted my head and there was this big cow moose, a little agitated that we were walking up on her. I am sure she thought we could not be so stupid as to have not clocked her already. Of which I was certainly guilty. Not Mollie, however.

To be sure Mollie had stopped already and was looking at the moose with great animation. I immediately started to back away and called to Mollie to come to me at the same time. She was off her leash and likes to chase deer, but deer run, moose not so much.

After a couple of calls she relented and turned back to me. I stopped in the grass, bent over to attach the leash and looked back at the moose. It just looked at us. In my experience moose are pretty chill most of the time. The sense I have is they know how big and scary they are and if you respect that then they are fine. I could be completely wrong but that is my view. I also do not push my luck with them.

As I was bent over, I decided to risk a couple of photos. I struggled to keep her in my viewfinder even at this greater distance she was so close. She was warily watching as were we. I took my photos and a short video then moved back to the trail.

In the video the moose turned towards us and bent its head down. I tensed, not sure her intentions. I also had this feeling of detachment behind the camera which I pushed aside as I knew this was a foolish thought. She seemed undecided about that to do, keep grazing or keep an eye on us. She seemed to choose caution.

The morning started out uneventfully, we drove out to the lake parked and I put on my camera pack. I was hoping for some video practice and perhaps a quieter environment for some sound recordings. I didn't expect a beautiful fall morning. There was a heavy dew near the lake shore and a partly cloudy blue sky. Some fall colors were still present, and it all conspired to create a kind of delicate beauty.

The larch were still sporting their fall yellow despite areas of the forest floor carpeted in their fine yellow needles.

The water moved from a mirrored surface to diffuse ripple.

Turning my camera to a small mound in the water I found it was a small refuge for turtles warming themselves in the morning sunlight. In another month this will all be a sheet of ice and likely as not, ice fisherman freezing in their little huts hunched over a hole in the ice. Where are the turtles then?

We moved back to the main trail with the noisy croaking of raven and a couple of noisy flyovers by them. Somewhere on the ridge above us a Stellar's jay was making its Magpie-like call. All around was the sound of chickadees and nuthatches the most consistent forest denizens this time of year.

It was then that we found the moose. We left her and walked back to the trail and walked around where she was grazing, spying her through the trees and knowing she was keeping an eye on us as well.

Soon we were at the back of the lake where a small stream feeds the lake as it runs through a cedar grove. Here it gets darker and quieter where the moss and fungus rule the cathedral of the grove.

Finally, what I came out for. Ducks on the lake. Alas it is duck hunting season and a such they keep their distance this time of year. Especially when I am toting a long black lens.