Honor Guard

Early Morning Honor Guard

Wapiti Cow Herd

Breakfast Grazing

Some Still Bedded Down

Does the Cat Know the Elk?

The Pond The Honor Guard Watches

Wapiti stand tall as the regal Honor Guard of Elmira Pond. With furry red heads and shaggy shoulders, their golden coats are sleek and ceremoniously plumed at the rump.

Like the mists that roll off Elmira Pond, wapiti can suddenly materialize in a pasture and quickly evaporate as if not of solid form. Hunters speak of stalking great bulls in plain sight only to see them disappear without explanation. In the Pacific Northwest, Native Americans believe that elk are the protectors of women.

The early morning that I left for LA last week, the entire local herd was standing alongside the road as we pulled out of our driveway. I felt as though the Honor Guard of Elmira was seeing me off on my journey. LA might have its red carpets, but Idaho has its wapiti.

When I returned, it was the barn cat who greeted me with such enthusiasm, that as she trotted my direction, each bounce puffed her meows as if she were grunting like an elk. I wonder if she knows the Honor Guard? If she curves her slinky black and white body around their legs as they graze and drop turds the size of chocolate-coated almonds in copious piles?

Ever alert and on the move, wapiti graze like mist -- a chomp here, two quick steps, another chomp, three steps, chomp and they are gone. There's no mistaking an elk for a deer, as they are nearly as big as a moose.

This morning, as the spring sun rises earlier and earlier, I was up to peek out my windows to see what I could see. And across the pasture from my garden was a few wapiti. They were not strolling so I actually got to watch them. With the binoculars, I realized that the majority of the herd was bedded down. I could see reddish heads above winter's last clumps of grass.

Grenny stood with me, not needing binoculars to see the herd. He was still as Blue Heron fixated on a frog. As the sun rose, so did the cows and they began their quick-paced feeding and were gone in minutes. My photos do not do them justice. They are regal and gilded in the sunlight. A worthy Honor Guard of the pond.

Linking up with Abracabadra for Wordless Wednesdays. Photos, even the grainy ones by dawn's early light, by Charli Mills.

Wapiti Romp-By

The Gang Romps in From the North

Passing Elmira Pond

Gilded Rump in the Morning Sun

A "Little" Yearling

Bouncing to the Beat

Entering the Blue Bird Ranch

Movin' and Groovin'

The Gang Has Romped By

Wapiti trot past the pond.

Elk are like the hip-hoppers of the Rocky Mountains. Rarely do they amble or glide like deer; they bounce in such a way as to rock their golden rumps from side-to side. They'll play chase in large open fields, bucking and kicking at each other the way kids will rough-house.

Wapiti romp to their own hoof-drumming beat.

Dawn's morning light adds extra gild to their tawny hides with furry patches of russet. The romp-by begins north of Elmira Pond as the elk herd--called a gang--bobbles across a neighbor's field. I can see their glistening hides as the gang weaves in and out of Ponderosa pines.

Not much will stop a gang. Wapiti stand four to five feet tall at the shoulder and can weigh up to 1,100 pounds! Imagine a bull-elk with a four-foot rack. He'd tower over professional basketball players, and they too, would step out of the way.

Steam rises softly from Elmira Pond. Ducks, geese and mergansers may already be floating on the waters, but it's hard to see them through the mist.

Mist doesn't hide the wapiti that continue past the pond. From a safe distance--my husband proudly declares me a chicken and I accept that title--I snap photos. He'll be so happy to see them.

Wapiti is a Cree or Shawnee name meaning, "light-colored deer."  Yet, somehow, Todd and I took to calling elk, "lokies" when we lived in Montana during the 1990s. Maybe one of the kids called an elk a "lokie;" maybe we confused it for "wapiti."

Traveling the 15 miles between Sandpoint and Elmira, we always look for the gang. We know the wapiti hot-spots. We've paused many times to watch them romp or feed in several hay fields.

Once we even watched a dog pursue a wapiti. Several more chased the dog and most of the gang continued to graze, unconcerned.

They graze like gilded lightening. We've watched them push through here in less than 10 minutes, eating grass the entire time. Always, though, they show up at the worst lighting for photos and I have sketchy snapshots that strain the imagination.

But today is my lucky, golden day. Today I have a full wapiti romp-by in good lighting.

The gang moves on and the sun rises. Such is life on Elmira Pond.