Moose sighting prompted big move

As the wind howls outside and snowdrifts grow with each gust, I'm sitting here thinking back over the events of last few days. Actually, "encounters" would be a better word. Encounters with those lovely creatures whose looks belie their grace. Their name doesn't do them justice either, but it is easy to remember - moose. And this New Year has been a banner year for moose encounters.

In fact, it was a moose standing in the backyard that helped cement my decision to move here. That was back in 2005 while I was on terminal leave after returning from the war in Iraq. I still remember looking out the sliding glass door at that huge cow moose standing just inches from my awestruck eyes with only the glass between us for flimsy protection. It was an encounter with something that really belongs to the Ice Age. This mammal looked like it was made of leftover parts. It seemed gentle, curious and graceful, and I had never seen anything like it. When my leave was over, I returned to Kirkland, Wash., bought a Subaru, stuffed it to the gills and transferred from the Washington Guard to the Alaska Guard. The rest, as they say, is history.

So when the cry of "moose" rings out at our house, we all scramble to the windows with our cameras ready to take in the wonder as one, two, or sometimes three or more moose as they glide in. But sometimes they still surprise us, like the encounter I had a few days ago.

It started around 2:45 a.m., with the sound of crunching snow outside my room. I picked up my flashlight and went into the living room, where I could see a moose in our driveway. The temperature was 22 below, but this moose was not bothered at all as it nibbled willow tips in the dark. I watched it for a while then went back to bed.

Over breakfast, I told my sister and mother of the encounter. We had heard on the TV, radio and from friends how the heavy snowfall in the mountains and the frigid temperatures are pushing moose down into the Valley.

I pointed out the tracks left in the snow that could be seen in the still-dark morning. Then as they ate I bundled up to go out and get the newspapers. On my way I marveled at the tracks left by the late-night visitor. But it was still a whopping 22 below zero, so I grabbed the papers and ran back inside, grateful for the invention of indoor heating. Inside, I made myself one of my breakfast disasters known as an omelet and ate as I watched the first glow of predawn twilight break.

As dawn arrived, I looked out the window and stopped. Dropped-jawed and staring I pointed to the dark shape in the snow. "Oh my god! It's a, it's a ... mmm moose!"

Everyone got up and ran to the window to see the dark shape next to the driveway in the snow.

"I ahhh ... walked right by it! I never knew it was there. That has got to be the same moose I saw last night. It never left!"

I was freaking out, but who wouldn't? I had strolled right by a full-grown moose laying in the snow not 10 feet from me in the dark. And as the sun rose low on the horizon that moose was to give us more surprises.

It was now light enough to take photos and as my sister and I were taking shots like fools through the windows. Soon it became apparent that there was not one, but three moose laying in our front yard. Camping, we call it. I posted about 30 photos on Facebook for my friends and family down in the Lower 48 of the three campers - an older cow with her yearling calf and its older sibling in tow. The old female was the one I had walked by.

The more than four-hour encounter was the longest we've had with the graceful creatures and it was not the last either. We saw several more moose in the following days. And my Facebook friends were as thrilled to see the pictures.

It's a pleasure to see these animals, but it's important to treat them with a great deal of respect. Gentle as they appear, we know full well an angry moose is the most dangerous animal in Alaska.

They glide out the woods like ghosts and into our yards and our lives. They thrill as they pass, stopping to feed on willow tips with their big, soft eyes and huge heads topped by outlandish ears. Their spindly legs look like they don't belong, yet they seem to glide on them and can disappear in seconds back into the trees. Is it any wonder we love them? Not to mention they make a good stew.

Another huge gust of wind strikes the house and blowing snow blots out the view outside. The weather outside is frightfully bitter and wild, but thinking back over that encounter, and the others that will follow, warms my heart. I smile to myself knowing I have a moose to thank for making the decision to embark on my Alaska journey.

Wasilla resident Daniel D. Grota retired from the U.S. Army after more than 21 years of service.