Still chewing the last few bites of toast, we watched this girl pick her way through camp, going tree to tree for her own breakfast.
Following closely, quietly, behind the native fishing guide and dock hand, we traced the moose's path into the woods. As we went, he brought his hands up to his mouth, the muffled groans of a cow moose spilling around his cupped palms.
It slowed and looked back, only for a moment, before disappearing into the trees. //
The last few months have been full and fast, but I'm now finding some time to relive a few of the memories behind the photos.