The Way Home

The elk were elusive.

I would stand in my friend's dining room at night, looking out into the blackness, hoping to see the elk that had bedded down for the night in her yard.

But they, apparently, didn't bed down in her yard this week. Because I was staring out her big windows and saw nothing.

Blast.

She had stuffed ones on her walls. But none of the live ones.

And I galavanted all around the mountains. AND NEVER SAW THE ELK.

I saw big-horned sheep, but no elk.

Imagine me, staring out widows into darkness, seeing nothing. Heaving devastated sighs. Every night.

Now, I have seen elk before. I lived by an elk farm when I was a kid. Why in the world was it elk that I wanted to see this week? I don't know. But I was ravenous.
And it seems that I am still starving, because my eyes were never satisfied with seeing their likenesses.

Last night, our last night, I said across the bedroom to Eliza, "Just think, we are in the middle of nowhere mountains, and somewhere in a mile radius from here is a herd of elk. Bedded down. And I am not seeing them. Just think. I am devastated."

Sigh.

Anyway. I am on my way back home. Tomorrow we will finish our trek. I think I need to process. So brace yourself, I think I might have a lot to say.

Also, my computer is on the fritz, so I apologize ahead of time for the delay it will inevitably bring to my posts.

Talk soon, wolfies.