Seeing moose is always special. But this encounter—this quiet, sacred morning—was something extra meaningful.
I had just arrived at one of my favorite spots in Pinedale, Wyoming and started walking in one direction when God gently redirected my steps. Out of the blue, I spotted an old friend in the distance. I wanted to say hi, so I turned around and began walking the opposite way. The path forms a loop, so I knew we’d meet again eventually. But what I didn’t know was that God was leading me straight to something beautiful.
After a few steps, I saw them.
At first, it was the baby moose who caught my eye—curious, wide-eyed, and full of life. We startled each other for a brief second before he ran back to his mama. The sun was just beginning to rise, painting the scene in soft blue hues—the last whispers of night still clinging to their fur.
The mother stood tall, watchful, assessing me with quiet strength. Moose don’t see very well, but they make up for it with sharp hearing and a keen sense of smell. She studied me carefully, deciding whether I was a threat. When she finally relaxed and laid down, I felt my heart overflow with gratitude.
As soon as she rested, the little one stood up, ready to explore the world. But mom had other plans. She gently nudged him back down, reminding him that even in the wild, there is wisdom in stillness. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched him flick his ears in protest—just like a child told to go back to bed.
Then something extraordinary happened. The mother moose curled herself into a tiny ball and closed her eyes for a nap. There I was, in the middle of God’s creation, just a few feet away from one of North America’s largest mammals, and she felt safe enough to rest. That moment felt like a blessing—a reminder of the peace that comes when we trust God’s presence in the wild.
For nearly an hour and a half, she rested. Occasionally she’d open her eyes when people passed by or when a group of Canada geese flew overhead, their honks echoing through the valley. The baby grew restless, eventually standing up to wander off, and a few minutes later, his mother followed.
As the morning light spread across the landscape, I stood in awe—thankful for the stillness, the trust, and the lesson hidden in that peaceful encounter.
Every photo I took that morning tells a story of patience, grace, and God’s light breaking through the dawn.
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