Here you are sitting in your small cozy New Hampshire Cabin up north looking out the window above the sink, doing the dishes from breakfast. The wood stove is chugging away as the temperature is just 6 degrees outside. On the stove is a pot of venison stew and the aroma is everywhere. The room you are in is the kitchen/living room the walls are scalloped pine. The only thing you hear is a crackling of fire in the wood stove, the tinnitus buzz in my ear and silence. I can hear myself breathing. The field in front of you is large and to the left of the field is a small patch of spruce trees where there is a deer trail that brings deer into the field. Doing dishes has its rewards as you gaze hoping for a deer to appear. I sometimes dream as if dazed what it would have been like here millions of years ago when prehistoric creatures roamed in search of food and a mate. Suddenly I was startled as if my dream was real, a prehistoric moose appears sticking its head out of the Spruce deer trail. Holy Crap, are you kidding? It is the size of a bus and 14 feet tall. It’s antlers are 16 feet wide and the palmation of the antlers is three feet wide with huge two foot brow tines and its head is bigger than my whole body. What a vision to have seen such a behemoth for real in the north woods of New Hampshire.
Oh no, I sneezed and woke from my daze as the warm soap suds drip from my hands. The moose is gone, poof, just like that. Oh well, the Antlers would never fit in my cabin anyway. It is just amazing what your brain can concoct for you in the name of entertainment on a cold winters day…Maybe we can see our Moose friend again sometime. Now for a hot bowl of venison stew and a fresh stick of French bread and butter.