Shots

Sometimes there is particular irony that photography is called ”shooting”.

So I drove to my favourite creek again. No rain, but very slippery rocks. As I was making my way through the bushes, I suddenly heard a gunshot. Very close by! I stopped to have a look around, but I was fairly well hidden among the branches so no way a hunter could mistake my blue jacket for a moose. It got my heart racing though, and then there was another shot. And another. I stopped counting after 10 shots and I had some trouble concentrating on my own shooting. I kept thinking, what should I be most afraid of? A trigger happy hunter or a wounded moose? Then I thought of wounded bears and decided that I should definitely be most afraid of wounded bears. I really had to breathe deep for a moment to convince myself to continue. I kept stopping to have a look around me and shouting some ”haloo”s at frequent intervals though, just in case. The key is to make them know that you’re there! But after a while when the ridge got between me and the gunshots, I calmed down and just had a great time again, discovering new detail in the creek.

I don’t know if I was in any danger while I was there. I don’t know if it was someone just doing target practice or someone in need of it (how many shots does it take to kill a moose?). But maybe the shooting did frighten the local wildlife so there wasn’t any risk of running into a bull moose again. Other than maybe a wounded one. Anyone who thinks that photography is boring? Join me on my next excursion to an almost inaccessible creek during the moose and bear hunting season!