A Tribute to Green Ears
A beautiful creature, deeply caring mother, and a patient and gentle soul.
Her name was silly yet so obvious. Green Ears…I had known, admired, and respected her for four years. She was a beautiful creature, deeply caring mother, and a patient and gentle soul. I had observed all of these characteristics with an appreciation for her goodness.
I first meant Green Ears four years ago (2021) at the Beaver Ponds boardwalk in Rocky Mountain National Park. It was a June morning, and I had walked to the end of the wooden walkway, camera in hand.
That’s when we met. She was in the middle of the marshy meadow, two green tags - one in each ear, with her less than month old moose calf at her side. I don’t remember exactly, but I probably gasped a bit at the sight of her and her baby. Then with a deep breath and a smile, I lifted my camera viewfinder to my eye.
As I stood near the walkway railing, camera at the ready, Green Ears strolled along the stream eating aqua grass as she did. I had only brought my 150-600 mm lens with me. Nothing smaller. So as she walked along, she quickly filled the frame, her ears moving beyond the edges.
Standing behind the railing of the wooden platform, I hoped she would not be frightened. But that was not Green Ears nature. She was calm, patient with photographers, and did not show aggression. That was our first encounter.
In 2022, through the night of May 31, it snowed five inches. The day before, I had seen Green Ears and her new calf tucked into the willows in Moose Meadows between the Beaver Ponds and Deer Junction. On the morning of June 1, I went to Moose Meadows where I crossed the far end of the meadow and worked my way along the treeline to the opposite end hoping to catch a glimpse of Green Ears.
When I saw her, she was lying in the fresh snow, beautiful brown with a hint of red against the snow covered willows. Showing my respect, I stayed a safe distance away while photographing her beauty against the white backdrop.
That’s when it happened. It was one of those special moments a photographer dreams of. With my camera on Green Ears, her new calf appeared from the willows to greet her mother. Softly, her young head moved to rest gently on her mother’s muzzle. My camera lens opened and closed at the sight of the tender mother/daughter moment.
Today, it is still one of my favorite photography experiences. Yet Green Ears gave me other wonderful photography moments.
In 2023, she spent a couple of weeks in the Beaver Ponds near the boardwalk. Her new calf would nurse then test young legs running and splashing, a child at play. On May 30, I photographed Green Ears and her calf lying quietly in the grass. Two days later, she was nursing her calf, nuzzling her baby as she did.
Then two weeks later in the middle of the afternoon, I stood on the boardwalk platform with a dozen curious tourists and my RMNPhotographer Tour of four guests. No moose were in sight when suddenly Green Ear’s calf surprised us. She scooted from the willows to the opposite side of the boardwalk as tourists pointed, excited to see the calf until…
Looking for her baby, Green Ears stepped to block the boardwalk staring down at the platform full of people. We watched for a moment, and as I held the large group back, one tourist asked me, “Can we walk down there?” Stunned, I answered, “No, no, no, no, no. We wait for Green Ears to join her calf.” A few moments later, the moose I’d photographed so many times moved down into the marsh to lead her calf away from the crowd.
Green Ears continued her mothering way this summer. On June 17, 2024, my wife, Carolyn, and I went for a picnic in the quiet beauty of Endo Valley. We were enjoying the serenity and our hamburgers with Doritos and homemade chocolate chip cookies. Then, across Fall River, Green Ears appeared with her calf of the year. As our hamburgers returned to our plates, we watched her feed, her calf by her side. Seeming oblivious to us, the moose and calf enjoyed the greens along the river.
Last week, when I learned of Green Ear’s death, a wave of sadness rushed over me. She had been an amazing mother and a gentle soul. She was a beautiful moose whose patience allowed us to photograph her and her calves each year.
I will miss seeing Green Ears, mothering her babies at the Beaver Ponds, Moose Meadows, and Endo Valley. I will miss her glancing about, noticing me at a distance, and returning to her mothering ways. My only comfort is the belief that her offspring will carry on in the same vein.
Rest in peace, my gentle friend. You are missed.
