Backpack, check. Coat, check, lunch, check. Bear spray….. check. With the arrival of autumn comes the return of morning walks to the bus with young George, apples ripening on the tree and the prospect of coming face to face with one of North America’s largest carnivores. The “nightly news” of Gardiner, Montana – reports via footage from backyard trail cameras and Facebook, that one or more grizzlies has been making the rounds through the backyards and streets of town in search of laden apples trees and improperly secured garbage.

Footage compliments of K. Short

Our neighbors reported signs of a grizzly in their yard just recently. And as we make that early morning walk along the gravel drive to the bus stop, the bears are returning to wooded areas to settle down after a night on the town. In late fall means hyperphagia – a bear’s version of binge eating – to put on as much weight as possible before a long winter hibernation. They roam the landscape like vacuum cleaners with voracious appetites, searching for food that will help them pack on the pounds. For some of the ecosystem’s grizzlies, this means scavenging carcasses or foraging at high elevations for white-bark pine nuts and  the ‘butterballs’ of bear cuisine – army cutworm moths – living packets of fat and protein which take refuge in the millions beneath the rocks on the high rocky slopes of the Gallatin and Absaroka mountains. But each year, at the tail end of apple harvest season, a handful of bears venture down from the mountains to roam the backyards and streets of Gardiner in search of an easy meal; apples, garbage, dog food, bird feeders. We watch daily for the tell-tale signs; big piles of orange scat filled with apple skins, and limbs ripped from the unlucky trees. We try to be good neighbors; picking apples early, collecting fallen ones from the ground, and carefully storing our trash and any other attractants in hopes of avoiding a surprise encounter. Even so, it’s nearly impossible to remove everything. Habit, fueled by flawless memories and an uncanny sense of timing, lead them back to years-old feeding sites in hopes of just one more reward.

So, with a slight tingle on the backs, we walk the 200 yards to the bus stop, past the apple grove, wondering what may be bedded in the sage or aspens along the way. Some might think we’re crazy, but we wouldn’t trade it for anything. What would this world be without things that make us feel small, inadequate or outright terrified at times? Grizzlies are the very essence of what lies in the heart of these mountains – wildness. Whether it’s bison in the backyard or grizzlies at the bus stop, to live in the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem is to live a wild life.

As always, the bear has the last word.

The bear was large, its coat a shimmering deep brown tinged with silver. Laying on its belly, leg haunch in the air, it was chewing on the last remains of an elk at a bend in the river. On our way “up the hill” to Mammoth for a regular weeknight engagement, we spotted a grizzly just 100 yards off the road along the Gardner River, and stopped to take advantage of the rare chance to see a bear up close.

We planned to look for the bear the next morning, but the weather was dark and damp, and we had heard the bear was nowhere to be seen. “Let’s go anyway”, George said, because it’s always worth it – something we often tell ourselves when we just don’t feel like getting up early, or heading our for a hike, whatever. The moment we parked the truck and got out, Jenny whispered “George, look up!” There, perched on the hill ten yards above us, was a coyote. We watched quietly as it eyed us for a few moments before trotting nonchalantly down the game trail, across the bridge and off the other side of the road. Atop a higher vantage point dotted with rabbitbrush and sage, the heavy, damp chill enveloped us like a soggy sweater. Suddenly a coyote yipped, then more answered. We looked back at the carcass and they materialized like ghosts: one, two, three – no four! coyotes, their full coats, rusty ears and black tipped tails vivid in the muted light. We watched as they group-howled, heads reared back in full voice. Eventually, they scent marked together, and then trotted on up a hill across the river.

Eyes are everywhere in Yellowstone, and on the ridge farther above us, a lone elk peeked its head over. Soon, another, then another looked down upon us. A sharp shinned hawk soared overhead and perched in a nearby tree. No fewer than six bull elk were in view. We never did see the bear. But just by showing up we saw so much more. Yellowstone, once again, reminded us never to underestimate what even a few minutes outside can do. We were out for a grand total of 40 minutes. It was worth it.

Quick before the gates close! The seasonal closure of Yellowstone’s road system is upon us.  Jenny, young George and I took the opportunity to pick up and drop off some sculptures at Mountain Trails Gallery in Jackson, WY as our excuse to take a drive through the interior of our nation’s first national park before the land becomes shrouded in white. Each year the roads of the Park close, save the road out to Cooke City at the north-east entrance, in order to let the snow build up to the point of allowing travel by snowcoach or snowmobile. (Image above: the majestic Tetons reduced to their foothills by dramatic skies)

Our last view of Old Faithful before the snow flies (above, left), Jenny and “G” aka “the peanut gallery” (top, right), Casey – the ‘perenial passenger’ (bottom, right) and Jasper – ‘the navigator’ (bottom, left)

Our together-ness is made all the more sweet by the extraordinary landscape that we share. The icing on the cake is the wild inhabitants along the way who give us an even deeper level of awareness.

Teton Mountains from near Moran Junction.

Two bull moose near Moose Junction, appropriately enough.

Traveling has such a wonderful way of bringing us back to what is most important. We are just returned from two weeks on the east coast where we spent some time at Brookgreen Gardens, a sculpture garden and wildlife preserve in South Carolina and Cumberland Island National Seashore in Georgia. On Cumberland Island, we marveled at revelations and discoveries in every little nook and cranny, from the tree frogs hidden in a folded palmetto, the vastness of the ocean, unbelievably tiny hermit crabs, to the subtleties of a cuckoo call in the live oaks and countless other small yet significant discoveries. At Brookgreen Sculpture Gardens, we were struck by the beauty of art and gardens at the hand of man. This trip reminded us that beauty is where you look for it. Although we are regularly surrounded by stunning natural wonders at our home in Yellowstone – we were reminded that every place offers it’s own beauty and intrigue if you are willing to be present and seek it out. There is infinite beauty in wild places, as well as in human spaces – from the impossible complexity of a salt marsh to a marble bust at the Metropolitan. Pictured here: Above, top – Live oak tree, middle – thumbnail sketch of sculpture “Primitive Man & Serpent” by Roland Perry and notes on other artists, below – green tree frogs.

This is THE skull! Exactly 619 days and 19 hours before this shot was taken, I and my “Wolves of Yellowstone Class” got to see this bison taken down by the Mollie’s wolf pack on one snowy February afternoon in 2012. On a recent hike with photographer friend Brad Orsted, we came upon this area of Lamar Valley where that exact hunt took place – AND it is the same one that I filmed and placed on YouTube (linked below)! As we walked into the area of the hunt, that day was the farthest thing from my mind, but when I looked around, my memory snapped to the fore. The dramatic scene that took place over a year and eight months ago, happened RIGHT HERE!

“Brad,” I said, “I think that bison’s bones from the wolf hunt should be right ahead of us somewhere here.” Lo and behold, there was the skull – mere yards from the final resting spot of that bison when those 19 wolves seized her.

When watching the film footage you will see the bison fleeing from the wolves and going up a trail on the background hills. Look closely and you will see, etched in the sod, those very same trails. In the film, I was watching from across the Valley at a distance of ~2 miles. One always come across bones and carcasses in Yellowstone and I always wonder “what was the story behind this one?” In this particular case, we know the exact cause of death, where, when, everything…

Left the house before light this morning to simply ‘be’ – no agenda, no obligations – and maybe do some sketching if a motive struck me. I was greeted with this sweet ribbon of dawn as the sun illuminated the lateral drapery in the sky.