Update

Last May, I wrote in this blog about an animal that was particularly dear to me.  A wild Bull Elk, which I named Raggie.  http://silvyr.blogspot.com/2010/05/raggie.html

We first noticed Raggie as a calf, back in 2007- mainly because of his mother.  The cow elk was VERY old, and grizzled. She had white hair at the base of her ears, and on her face, and she was reluctant to jump fences, even ours- which are uncommonly low, and easy on the wildlife. She would run the fence lines with her calf at her side, watching the rest of her herd get farther and farther away.  Eventually, she'd jump the fence, only to find another fence, and another fence inbetween her and her friends. 

 We named her Gramma.

The following year, 2008, we noticed the pair again.  Gramma was back, but this time, the calf had grown into a spike bull.

 He stuck right with his mother, which isn't too unusual in the elk world.  We noticed them, delighted at the bull elk's growth, and didn't think much more about it.

It was the following year- 2009, that I fell in love.  The bull elk was back... still with his mother! but now, he was a proud Raghorn bull-  big, and magnificent.

It's a bit unusual to have a Raghorn stay down in the Valley with the cow elk... and he stuck around the ENTIRE Winter, allowing me to take gazillion photos.  As time passed, he and I developed an almost mystical relationship... which I describe in my earlier blog.  http://silvyr.blogspot.com/2010/05/raggie.html

I really had no hope of seeing him again in 2010.  He was a BIG BOY now... and would NOT come down to the Valley with the cows.  I worried about him, sent him prayers of protection, and my love, and settled for rejoicing at each sighting of Gramma- his mother.

Which is why seeing a lone Bull elk in velvet striding across the pasture, stepping over the fence, and walking right up to the mares eating hay was so startling, and so... exultant!

For there was NO DOUBT that it was Raggie... come home, to let me know he'd survived hunting season, and a long, cold Winter safely.

Summer came, and all the elk left, except for Gramma.  She was still with us through July- and then... she was gone.  Even when the other elk came down in the Fall, and the Winter, Gramma was no longer with them, and though Bruce and I would strain our eyes through binoculars, we realized the inevitable had happened... and we mourned.  Our hunting season was abnormally successful for the sportsmen- and abnormally brutal for bull elk.  I continued to worry.  I continued to send prayers into the ether, thoughts of protection and love.  A gesture I understood I would never realize it's success or failure. 

But- once again!  traveling down his familiar path- stepping over the fence, and approaching the mares, came a majestic, bull elk.  Raggie, home again, 4 1/2 yrs. old, and every bit as proud, and beautiful as ever.

Once again, he stopped, and looked for me.

Once again, I was there.  We stared into each others' eyes, while I tried to pour my love and gratitude into this animal. Thank you, for letting me know. Thank you for coming home where you're safe.

Then, he turned... and while I was shouting thoughts of advice... stay up high! stay away from the Valleys! Be wary of any humans! or stay for awhile... right here, where you are safe....

He walked away

into the wild

where he belongs.