The other day, I had a wildlife close call. I was blessed with limitless golden hour light which lasted all day, making for a brilliant range of photographic opportunities. More to come, but first there I was... (isn't that how all great stories begin?)
I was hiking around Sprague Lake trail in Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. It was a perfect day with ideal autumn weather. The path hugged a small pristine lake, backdropped by white-capped mountains and clear blue skies.
First, I followed a bunch of brook trout swimming along the crystal clear stream leading me to the lake. I saw five glistening green mallard heads pop up out of the water, then each disappeared almost in unison. They dove underwater, leaving their dancing white booties bobbing while their orange feet treaded water. It was equally adorable and hilarious at the same time.
I came around a blind bend where the path hugs a large boulder. I found myself 10-feet away from three large female elk. The closest shot up straight. Her ears perked up and her brow furled. Suddenly, she started toward me. I turned and hightailed it off path, cameras swinging wildly to each side.
I climbed up behind the boulder in search of safe vantage point. I reached the top and froze, realizing I was surrounded by at least 40 female elk and one giant bull.
He towered over the rest of the heard, showing massive six by six antlers. He stood atop a ridge a mere 30 feet away. We locked eyes and a moment was shared. Neither moved for a few eternal seconds…
I got low to the rock. Ten seconds passed, then he turned, lowering his head to the ground and began grazing.
I sighed with relief then took in the scene for awhile. After a time, I started taking photos of the herd. The rest of the herd relaxed and slowly meandered into the upper forest. I turned back to continue the trail loop around, and by the time I reached the boulder, they were gone.
I continued on and just as the trees cleared to meadow, revealing Longs Peak, I ran into the bull elk again 15 feet away in the the high grass.
Between moments of sleepy chewing, he often kept his eye on me. This is that glare.
