Some new, some old…
Finally finished culling unwanted photos from the hard drive, here’s the last batch of shots that were overlooked for one reason or another the first time around…
Still working on cleaning up the old hard drive, here’s another batch of shots that were overlooked the first time around.
“Our remnants of wilderness will yield bigger values to the nation’s character and health than they will to its pocketbook, and to destroy them will be to admit that the latter are the only values that interest us.”
– Aldo Leopold
“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.” – John Muir
The elk rut is beginning to slowly wind down, bugles are losing intensity and serious fights between the big males are happening less frequently. I’ve witnessed some excellent mating season drama this year – madness, serenity, ferocity, compassion, weakness, strength, refusal, acceptance, frustration, satisfaction, rage, glee, defeat and victory. Soon the mule deer bucks here in Colorado will begin sparring and rounding up the does and fawns, and the long-awaited deer rut will begin. All of the osprey have left their summer homes, migrating south to spend the winter in Texas and Mexico. Still few sightings and no shots of the elusive pine marten, maybe they will be easier to track and photograph in the late fall and winter (fingers crossed)…
“As Autumn approaches, elk descend from the high country to montane meadows for the annual breeding season. Within the gathering herds, the larger antlered males, weighing up to 1100 pounds and standing five feet at the shoulder, move nervously among the bands of smaller females.
In this season of excitement, bull elk compete with one another for the right to breed with a herd of females. Prime bulls, eight to nine years old, stand the best chance of mating. While competition is high among bulls it includes little fighting, since fighting causes injury and depletes energy. Instead, mature bulls compete for cows by displaying their antlers, necks and bodies. They emit strong, musky odors and bugle. With little rest or food during the mating season, bulls enter the winter highly susceptible to the hardships of the coming months.
Bull elk signal the season of mating with a crescendo of deep, resonant tones that rise rapidly to a high-pitched squeal before dropping to a series of grunts. It is this call, or bugle, that gives rise to the term “rut” for the mating season. Rut is derived from the Latin word meaning roar.
The eerie call, echoing through the autumn nights, serves to intimidate rival males and may act as a physical release for tensions of the season. Cows and younger bulls may also bugle, but they are unable to match the strength or range of the older bulls’ calls.”
– National Park Service
5:30 A.M. It’s almost completely dark, I can’t see anything around me but my breath in the 25 degree morning air. The sound of a distant elk bugling and breaking branches with his antlers is coming from the west. The frosty grass crunches under my feet as I slowly make my way across the open meadow toward a small pine grove. I’m trying to control my shivering, but the cold is biting at me through my layers of clothing – the first couple of minutes out of the truck are always the hardest. My eyes are beginning to adjust to the low light level. I can almost make out the fallen timber that snags my boots as I fumble around among the pines. I’m trying to be as quiet as possible, but I feel like a bull in a china shop. Finally reaching the edge of the trees, I wipe the frost off of a big fallen log and sit down. Silence. The light is getting a little better now, and I can just make out the faint outline of bushes and trees around me. I set up my tripod and camera and begin scanning the grasses and pines, listening and looking for movement mostly, because shapes can be very deceiving in this light. On a similar morning recently, an attempt to photograph a lone bull moose in a bushy bog had somehow transformed into a lone photographer sitting under the only bush in an otherwise barren bog surrounded by several moose as the light improved. The stillness is interrupted by the sound of cracking timber under hooves, elk in the pines to the west are on the move. A nearby bugle fills the air, and shapes explode out of the trees and into the meadow in front of me. A group of cow and calf elk spills out into the grass, and a big bull stomps out of the trees and lets out a long bugle.
Suddenly two “bushes” to my right stand up and become bull elk, and each of them respond with their own unique rutting call. The big bull herds his harem into the open, circling the cows and calves and chasing stragglers back into the center of the group. Young spike bulls hover around the outskirts of the herd, nervously bugling and then running away as soon as the dominant bull approaches. Satellite bulls, usually 3, 4 or 5 pointers, circle the group and attempt to lure cows away from the herd. One satellite bull gets too close to the ladies, and the big guy chases him far to the south. Two other satellites seize the opportunity and rush in on the herd, scattering the group in every direction. A cow and two calves run right past me and into the timber, followed by a bugling 4 point bull with broken brow tines. I can hear them crashing around right behind me, but I can’t turn around. Even the slightest movement might give away my location and ruin my chances of getting the shots of the big bull that I want. A cow runs right up to me, stops, tilts her head as she stares at me, then runs off – the light is getting better. The herd bull has now returned, and is furiously bellowing and running in circles as he tries to get the cows herded again. A calf gets in front of the bull and the big guy lowers his head, ramming the calf with his antlers and tossing it out of the way. The calf slowly gets up and limps back to the safety of the herd. The satellite bull in the trees behind me is bugling and breaking branches, and it’s beginning to get the harem bull’s attention. The big guy bugles and grunts a couple of times, and when the smaller bull bugles back, the dominant bull heads in my direction at full speed. I scoot to my left against a tree, and the big guy stops in his tracks, about 15 feet away, staring at me. He bugles and lowers his head, and the cow and calf shoot out of the pines to my right, followed by the satellite bull. The big bull lifts his head and bugles.
Click, click, click – still too dark for my camera, blurry shot. The bull stares at me for a couple of seconds, then turns and goes back to rounding up his harem. I gather my things and head to the truck – 6:30, time for work.
Another hot Colorado summer is slowly coming to a close in the high country. Aspen leaves are beginning to change color, elk calves and deer fawns have nearly lost their spots, and reports of bear sightings are slowing down. Most of the osprey chicks have fledged and are now nearly identical in size and plumage to their parents. I’m ready for the fall – looking forward to watching the moose and elk in rut and listening to bugling bulls and cow calls.