It is axiomatic that hunters always see their target AFTER the conclusion of hunting season. We have found that to be true of bull moose in our yard.
At twilight earlier this week, while my husband and I were thinking amorous thoughts, we heard a moose beyond the trees with the same idea. He was repeating a gutteral “huh, huh, huh” sound which is apparently supposed to make nearby females of the species go wild with excitement. Sure enough, a few minutes later, a large cow (moose) and her yearling calf emerged from the woods beyond our chicken coop, east of where we heard the bull.
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| Cow with calf this spring |
The mother led the two of them on an ambulatory buffet, leaning down to the cranberries and reaching up toward birch and ash branches. She seemed absolutely uninterested in the “come hither” sounds of the male in the woods. The young calf, though, was curious or attracted. She took a few tentative steps toward the sound, then looked back at her mom, and then a few more, reminding me of a teenager who is torn between a desire to date the bad boy in town and wanting her parents' approval. She reached the edge of the trees and slipped among them before chickening out and trotting back to the cow.
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| Moose in game camera |
Suddenly the bull appeared in the yard, like an actor making his appearance once the audience has anticipated it. He was young, and smaller than the cow. He halved the distance to the females and then displayed his manliness by swiping elderberry bushes with his paddles and pawing at the ground. The mother watched him out of the corner of her eye, while her calf peeked shyly from under her belly. Then, with what struck me as absolute disdain, the two of them turned and slowly walked away from him up the hill into the darkness, leaving the bull alone, with no conquest for the night. He trotted after them, in a half-hearted sort of way, maybe hopeful but without much confidence. Any budding romance would transpire out of view.
