I was driving through Pomfret, Vt., with Robin and our friends Jayne and Frank when Frank yelled, “There’s a moose!” Yea right, I’ve been constantly looking for moose for the last four years. Vermont is packed with “Moose Crossing” road signs but I am certain they were put up by the department of tourism. The signs are everywhere but the moose must be able to read them because the moose are never near the signs. In fact, they don’t even have pictures of moose on the signs like they do for deer, people or cattle, just the words, so I don’t think the Vermont department of tourist knows what they look like.
So there we are, cruising along with Frank yelling MOOSE!!! and I could tell he wasn’t joking. So I turned the Jeep around quickly and got back to the field where Frank got excited. Sure enough, standing in a little meadow was a big bull moose grazing on the grass. I pulled off the road and the moose looked at us and started to wander up the hill. I ran to the back of the Jeep and grabbed my camera and fired plenty of shots as Bullwinkle trotted off into the trees.