On a magnificent springtime afternoon filled with fast moving thunderstorms, we stopped as three cow elk crossed in front of us and hurried up the slope. Two of them ran to the shelter of the trees while the third stopped to look for whatever had spooked them. She paid us no mind as she trotted a large circle, only to stop and look again. Tossing her nose into the air to scent the wind. She then turned and disappeared like a ghost into the timber as storm clouds swept over the ridge.
As the sun sank in the west, a bank of clouds on the eastern horizon began to glow, occasionally lit up by lightning like a strobe. Just to sit on the ridge in the fading light and listen to the rumble of distant thunder was entertainment of the finest quality.