I spent last Friday in Minnesota's Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCA). The trip was part of two FAN Outdoors radio programs sponsored by Ely, Minnesota's Chamber of Commerce (listen back to Thursday & Saturday's radio shows by podcast).
Late in the afternoon on Friday, my four person fishing group spotted a calf moose frolicking along the lakeshore in front of an enormous cow moose. These were the first moose I'd ever seen outside of a zoo. Suddenly, moose mattered more to me.
That's right; the reality of seeing something I "knew" existed had instantly changed my perspective on the creature standing in flesh before me. I had remorse for not reading those various news articles about wolf and moose interactions or moose brain worms. I wished I knew more about the creature standing looking at me.
I always liked the idea of moose. I have even owned some moose pajamas, flannel sheets, and a t-shirt, but immediately I was attracted to the enormity of this mammal, its gracefulness and the clumsiness of the calf. I wanted to join Moose Forever or whatever organization would help create habitat for this massive creature. In the minutes of one encounter, moose mattered more to me.
I had a similar reaction to the Boundary Waters. Sure, I'd seen photos and even looked over a map of the area before, but that was before my paddle had cut through its waters, my fishing lure had been exploded upon by a smallmouth bass, and before my moose encounter. Like the cow and calf moose, the wilderness and waters of the BWCA now mean a great deal more to me.
Smallies like this one exploded on the surface of the BWCA last week.
My question: As a society, do we have to see and experience something to care about it?
- The beauty of a flushing rooster from waving prairie grasses.
- The dance of a booming prairie chicken on their mating grounds (lek).
- The wing beat of a ruffed grouse on their drumming log.
- The duck migration's landing into a Waterfowl Production Area.
And my follow up question: If indeed society must see and experience these occurrences to care; coupled with America's well-documented decline in hunter numbers and disconnect from nature, then who will care for the wildlife and bird hunting heritage we have all worked so hard to preserve?
