Azure skies reluctantly allowed wispy fluffs of cirrus clouds while I enjoyed the luxurious perfection of a pool on a brilliant day in mid June. Or maybe you could call it controlled drowning. You see, after some boring laps I began my ridiculous workout of running in place in the deep end while holding ten-pound weights alternatively in each hand above water, and then both hands with weights while running furiously, bobbing above and below the water’s surface, gasping for air whenever I could. Yeah, I know, I was told not to do that alone at the pool in the mountains, but hell, it’s a great workout especially when your knees have more mileage than the government’s hand constantly pilfering our paychecks for pathetic programs.

But I digress, it seems. Back in the rejuvenating pool, I lay on my back after my controlled drowning with my shades on, and devoured the stunning view of eagles soaring over the pool and surrounding mountain forest, towering undisturbed, the masters of the sky. Diving to the dirty earth only when hungry, they carry their unsuspecting prey to their lofty nests for lunch. Such majestic and powerful birds made me a bit envious and reminded me of the days when I flew gliders, listening to the wind flow over the wings while I searched for uplifting thermals. Actually, I also searched for the eagles circling in the thermals, because they knew what they were doing, immensely more than I did. And the ruby – hued hummingbirds buzzed only feet above my head searching for that sweet sugar that powered their energetic wings. Yet it was the stillness of nature that brought me peace.

Now out of the pool, I grabbed my 50 shades book and sprawled out on that relaxing lounge chair to catch some rays and enjoy the quiet solitude. Well, I’m kidding of course. It was a scientific journal. I don’t need that other kind of instruction manual. He he. Surrounding the pool deck was a wrought iron fence, and the pine forest started only about six feet away from the fence. Just as I was falling asleep my, uh, scientific journal fell to the ground, and I was startled by a rustling noise in the brush. I looked to my right and saw nothing, laid back in the warmth and the rustling grew closer and closer. I peered over again to find the source of the noise, and there was a bull Elk, slowly moving through the brush. He saw me, stopped and stared, then continued walking, not away from me, but directly towards me, persistent, yet without fear. My heart hammered with excitement when I realized that he was now perhaps six feet away from me and we were both staring at each other, and the fence was all that separated man and beast. He had at least eight points on his rack, and I estimate he was probably about 700 pounds or so.

We stared at each other, neither with fear, and perhaps both of us were fascinated with the other life form. I admired his enormity and graceful walk and he admired, well, who knows. At least he wasn’t bugling and rutting, so he wasn’t attracted to me. We continued our stare – down for several minutes, and it wasn’t clear who won, but the Elk decided to walk along the fence perimeter and plop down under the shade provided by a sprawling fir tree. I watched him, as still as I could be, and he watched me, as still as he could be and then, we both grew tired of staring at each other and we both fell asleep. Or at least I think he was asleep because I didn’t hear him snoring to prove it. I slept with one eye open though, just in case he decided to leap over the fence and gore me. But really though, we both respected each other, now about 20 feet away, and it seemed we both enjoyed the warmth of the day and the peaceful nature that God provides. I have many hunter friends and I respect what they do, but even if I had a hunting rifle and a hunting license, there was no way I would ever think of shooting that wonderful beast, who seemed to be communicating with me. Let’s be clear though, I do own firearms to protect myself and my second amendment rights.
After about 45 minutes, he decided to get up from the shady ground and proceeded to walk slowly back along the fenceline towards me, and when he was parallel with my supine body, he glanced to the right, looked at me as if to say “goodbye” and plodded off into the forest, never to be seen again.

I’ll never forget how lucky I was to experience this close encounter with a bull Elk, who seemed to understand more about me, then perhaps I knew about myself.

This was my first blog, and to those of you who would like to read more, thank you, and I’ll provide more. And with time, you’ll hear about some of my upcoming publications, including a novel.

SRC