CHEERING FOR THE RAVENS

Ravens don’t live where I live so when I travel to forested places at higher elevations

 I watch for the great birds.

They are jet black from their knife shaped beak all the way to their toes.

 They are larger than crows and have a thick neck and shaggy throat feathers.

 Heavy skirt feathers come in handy for keeping feet warm in cold weather.

Ravens have a reputation for being among the smartest of all birds.  They have been known to solve complicated problems and are often seen flying straight down highways looking for roadkill.

 Soaking up some thin sunlight in icy weather

Studies done in Yellowstone Park found ravens locating injured elk and calling raucously, attracting the attention of a local wolf pack for an easy kill.

Raven researcher, Bernd Heinrich established that ravens and wolves are close associates.  His data showed that ravens were found near wolf packs up to 99.7 percent of the time in winter at Yellowstone National Park.

It is very possible that ravens and wolves are hunting partners who share the spoils.

I like to watch as they communicate 

and search the area from their positions on favorite perches.

Then, with a low croak, they stretch across the sky in easy, flowing wingbeats,

 the long, “fingers” at their wing tips sweeping the air.

Maybe The Ravens are considered the underdog but I’m still cheering for them to soar into victory. 

WILD WAPITI

When autumn comes to the Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Park, the elk make their way down out of the mountains to the National Elk Refuge, a winter habitat set aside for them in Jackson Hole, Wyoming.  The refuge was created in 1912 to provide sanctuary for the largest elk herd (around 7,500) on earth.

The elk are easy to see from the highway which goes between Jackson and Yellowstone.

 A heavy and high fence, seen here in the foreground, keeps them off the road.

Elk are second only to moose in size as a deer species.

The Shawnee called them, “wapiti” which means, literally, white rump.

The big bulls stand taller than five feet at the shoulder 

and their five-tined antlers tower almost four feet above their heads.

In March the bulls shed their antlers.  After the antlers fall off they walk around for quite a while with their heads down.  I don’t know if this is because the empty place leaves a sore spot or if they are just embarrassed to loose their handsome crowns.

In the winter they feed on grass and shrubs in the snow.

The meals are probably pretty yucchy compared to their 

summer menu of green leaves and branches.

The herd is kept alive during the hard winters through feeding.  The refuge also provides horse drawn sleigh rides to the public during the winter months so that visitors have the opportunity to see portions of the herd up close.

The National Elk Refuge covers nearly 25,000 acres of real estate right next to the tony town of Jackson where celebrities come to be seen at the two high-end ski resorts.  Personally, I think the elk and the landscape are the stars of the show.

GRAND TETONS

It was so cold--when we opened the door to the house the little light in front would turn on.  Shadows froze to the sidewalk, and the idea of weather-striping the border between Idaho and Canada sounded like a really good idea.  So what did we do?  DH and I went through with plans to visit an even colder place.

We drove over the border and up the mountains to Jackson, Wyoming.  We’d made reservations weeks earlier to enjoy a little out of town time, and once temperatures go below zero what’s a few more degrees?

We took our snowshoes but never saw a rational reason to use them.

 We just stayed in the Subaru and drove into Grand Teton National Park to see the sights.

If you look carefully in this photo you can see what is called "diamond dust,"
or tiny ice crystals in the air that reflect sunlight.  This phenomenon happens
when the air is well below freezing.

 Even at double-digit below, the scenery is jaw-dropping gorgeous.

Although the Grand Teton looked like she was trying to warm up 

by wrapping herself in clouds.

 Most of the time we had trouble even seeing the top of the 13,776 foot (4,199m) peak.

Still, you can see why she is called, The Grand.

 These mountains rise out of the valley floor like fangs.  

They change from moment to moment 

depending on weather, lighting and the viewing angle.

 Down at the end of the line is Mount Moran.  

We can see her from our home two hours away in Idaho.  

Up close she is magnificent.  

This kind of sight is well worth braving Arctic weather. 

Although it was nice to have a warm room to go back to.

I took a bazillion photos.  Next time I’ll show you the elk.