I have been waiting my whole life to see a moose.
If you want to see a moose you go to Canada, right? Well, I have been to Canada at least a half a dozen times in my life. No moose. My husband and I drove through Montana and up to Banff and Jasper for two weeks on our honeymoon. Prime moose territory, right? No moose. We move to the mountains in Colorado where supposedly there is a herd of about 300 around here somewhere and I hike and run and bike and drive here every day. No moose.
And then this morning came. My friends by now know about the
weird obsession bright little candle of hope I carry around with me that a moose will cross my path. Well, maybe not literally cross my path cause those suckers are BIG. But cross my path in a I’m-safe-in-car-or-house-kinda-way.
I got a frantic call and a few frantic texts this morning that I MUST come over to our neighbors house because there are moose in their backyard. I can’t even tell you how excited I was. Embarrassingly excited. So excited that I actually drove past their driveway and had to whip back around.
And the moose! A mom and what looked like an adolescent were, like, 50 feet away from the house. They could have cared less that I was there taking about 1000 pictures. And then my sweet friends had to get going and they let me stay and hang out and just watch these amazing creatures. I opened the door and the moose kind of looked at me, and they scratched themselves on trees and they munched and it was pretty freaking cool.