October 8, 2009 | My Jottings
When you think of your front yard, what phrase comes to mind? Postage Stamp? Tricycle Parking Lot? Leaf Graveyard? Gardens of Versailles?
Just in my neighborhood alone, the different front yards could have titles like, “Neighborhood Bus Stop,” “Garden Oasis,” “Piney Grove,” “Squirrel Haven,” and “Maple Park.”
A friend sent me these photos yesterday and they made me grin from ear to ear. There are only a few states in which a citizen could wake up in the morning to find that their front lawn had become a moose nursery during the night — Alaska, Maine, and Montana are three of those states. And my beautiful state, Minnesota, is another.
Recently a front yard a few miles north of us could have been dubbed, “Moose Nursery.”
Above, mama moose is vibing out her power and intimidation to the photographer. Moose are known for their poor eyesight, but it’s dangerous to get close to them. Postnatal moose have stomped people to death before.