The Wild of the Winter

The wild of the winter appeared out of nowhere.

It stepped from the vastness of the bush and moved toward the middle of the highway.

We were driving through snow flurries that night. The road ahead was dark, with only the sweep of headlights catching the snow as it crossed in front of us.

Then suddenly, there it was.

We came to a sudden stop without incident, startled and amazed.

The moose stood before us, large and still, as if it belonged more to the night than to the road. It did not hurry away. Instead, it stood watching us through the windshield while we stared back in disbelief.

I had never seen one so close before.

For a moment, I wondered if it was his first time seeing a vehicle, or people, or headlights cutting through the winter dark.

We will never know.

But for a moment, the wild stood still in front of us.