Elk Reflections

The other day I was sharing quality time with my co-workers around the old water cooler (**Editor’s note: it’s actually a Keurig. Because it’s not 1973 anymore. I don’t know where she gets this stuff.) Anyway, as I was saying, before I was so rudely fact-checked by my inner imaginary editor—my co-workers and I were idly chatting. The conversation changed, as it often does, to elk.

 Elk are omnipresent in Packwood and are usually standing around chewing on something, or taking a nap in the landscaping, or a selfie with tourists, or holding up traffic with one of their spontaneous elk parades. As my dear old grandpappy used to say, “You can’t swing a dead cat around here without hitting an elk.” (**Editor’s note: 1) Doubtful that her grandpappy ever said such a thing. 2) Doubtful elk populations were anywhere near current levels ‘back in the day’. 3) Who swings a dead cat? Ewww.)


Be that as it may, there are a lot of elk in town. At that moment, there was a single cow curled up right outside our window, looking suspiciously pleased with herself.

One of my favorite category of elk stories is all the mistaken beliefs that tourists often have about them. Visitors will inquire where we keep the elk at night—as though elk were on loan from Disney and just trucked in to make our town more picturesque. Or they will confuse elk with moose—which is silly. It’s easy to tell elk from moose. Moose have wide flat horns, are often crazy, and can kill you. Elk have sharp, pointy horns, are the spawn of the devil, and can kill your dreams. (**Editor’s note, shorter version: “How to tell elk from moose: we don’t have any moose in Packwood, therefore it’s an elk.”)

Photo by Ernest Rotter, 

wildlife photographer and aficionado of small batch ciders

Last week, a friend in NYC sent me a photo his father had taken of the Elk Feeding Station at Oak Creek and suggested that I try something similar, advertising my flower beds as “small batch, artisanal feeding ground for elk with advanced palates.” I texted him back “the finest establishments don’t need to advertise, and already have a waiting list.”

**Editor’s note: Now, about that fence....