In the picture the wolf stands poised in front of a stand of pine trees, their trunks black against the deep blue background of sky.
Her fur is almost pure white, even whiter than the snow, streaked only slightly by the shadow of a stripe down her back.
She glances back at us, telling us with her knowing look that she sees us, sees everything. That is how I remember her.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
A coyote hunts in the tall grass near Nez Perce Creek.
Moving back and forth, nose to the ground he changes directions.
Then up again he stiffens, lifts his chest and head as he moves forward and pounces.
And starts all over again.
The sun is already setting on this cold, clear afternoon.
A single bull elk with about 25 cows and this year's calves graze lazily along the river.
A cow crosses the river, stepping onto the bank tentatively, watchful, while innocent looking calves with dark brown faces and gentle,
large eyes step carefully over deadfall.
There is little evidence of last week's snows along the Madison River.
We walk around West Yellowstone under a full moon and a sky filled with stars.
It must be in the 20s. The snow-capped mountains are deep purple shadows glowing even in the blackness.
Author - Christine Baleshta
Photography - Tim Springer
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