It’s the night before an important event: a big exam, a major presentation, your wedding. How do you calm your nerves in preparation for the big day?
Well I’ll be darned if this isn’t downright appropriate. Today is the day before an important event. Yes indeed, tomorrow Marilyn and Garry pack everything — or nearly everything — we own, into the car. Then drive north, north, north, north until we finally finish our journey in Jackman, Maine.
Jackman is marked by the red thingy. Even though it doesn’t say Jackman. You’ll have to take my word for it.
Where you ask, is Jackman, Maine? I’m glad you asked that question. It isn’t on Google maps. Too small. It certainly is located near … well … nothing much, unless you count natural stuff like lakes, mountains, rivers, streams and …
If Jackman isn’t moose central, than I don’t know what is. Last time we were there (three years ago) it was May. Not a particularly good time to see moose because they have babies with them and the weather is warming up. They aren’t especially frisky in warm weather. Moose like it cold. They aren’t comfortable until the thermometer dips into the 20s. That would be Fahrenheit. For you who live by Celsius (the world), that’s minus 7 and lower. In other words, cold.
Moose have thick hides and a goodly amount of fur. They are happiest while humans are bundled up, sitting by a fire with hot cocoa, complaining about the weather and dreaming of spring. That’s when out huge hoofed and antlered pals finally stop wishing someone would turn on the air-conditioning. Mind you, they lose a lot of weight in the winter because there’s not much to eat, but they chow down like there’s no tomorrow all through the spring, summer, and fall just so they’ll have fat to burn when the snow comes.
October is a special month for them. November too. Their hormones rage. Moose are horny (sorry about the pun). It’s rutting time in the great north land.
Horny moose are irritable, frustrated, and moody. Especially guy moose. All they want is a big furry lady moose to snuggle up to, make a few baby moose. Instead, they have to compete with other bulls who have the same idea. Then, there are annoying people like me and my camera. Who are those aggravating naked weasels flashing lights at them?
“I think,” says Bullwinkle, “I’m going to go crush one of those annoying critters, yes I am.”
This is why, although I want very much to get some fantastic pictures of the big guys, I have to admit that I might not. Moose are nocturnal. Not much into sunshine (too warm and bright, thank you very much). They come out mostly after sunset, which makes taking their picture more difficult … unless you use a big strobe. But big strobes are annoying under the best of circumstances. Not to mention I don’t actually own a big strobe, not since I gave up wedding photography long years ago.
Regardless, if I did, would I really want to flash my equipment in the face of an already grumpy 3,000 pound bull moose? After which he might decide to pound me into Marilyn jelly? I can’t even run any more, so he’d have a high old time taking care of me. I might not even get a chance to explain how I’m a blogger and my followers want moose pictures. He might prefer not to listen.
Moose can be quite unreasonable.
So tomorrow is a big day. It’s a five-hour drive if there is no traffic. We are taking the coastal road — Route 95 to Maine – than inland via Route 201. With pit stops for nature, lunch, and groceries. It will be a long day. We should get started on errand running now, but instead, here I am, writing and there’s Garry, on his computer doing exactly the same thing. With the dogs between us. Snoring.
But it’ll be fine. Just FINE I tell you! Maybe even finer than fine.
Jackman, here we come!