About Me

My photo
My work can be found in REAL: Regarding Arts and Letters, The Jabberwock Review, The Emerson Review, Storyglossia, The MacGuffin, Confrontation, Passages North, SmokeLong Quarterly, elimae, wigleaf, Pank, New Delta Review, and Gargoyle #57, among others. One of my stories has been translated into Farsi by Asadollah Amraee, and many others by Jalil Jafari, two of which have been published in the Iranian journal, Golestaneh Magazine. Currently, I'm an Associate editor for Narrative Magazine. In 2011, I was awarded the Carol Houck Smith Contributor Scholarship for the Bread Loaf Writers' Conference.

Friday, February 18, 2005


I have lived most of my life in Vermont, mostly on the outskirts of a small city, for a couple of years in the flatter countryside of western Vermont, near the New York Border. It wasn't until I moved to southern Vermont, in a scooped out valley in the middle of tall ski mountains that I began to see Moose. I saw my first one as I drove up "Terrible Mountain," a name given to a mountain that made driving the road that ran over it a nightmare in the winter. He stood off to my left, just at the edge of a thick woods. He was huge and majestic and lovely. I pulled the car over and rolled my window down. We stared at each other. I could hear his breath. A quiet huffing. I sat there for a few minutes before rolling up my window to him and his world and driving off to my own.
The second moose I saw was walking along Route 100 in Weston. He may have been following the river. I slowed down but didn't have time that day to stop and enjoy. I worried about him so close to the road.
And of course, there were stories about cars hitting moose. Sometimes there were deaths. My ex-husband hit a moose on his way home from work. He's lucky to be alive. As many nights as I drove over Terrible Mountain or the treacherous road over Mt. Holly I was lucky to never have met a moose in the dark. But I looked for them. I always knew they were there, just beyond the curtain of the night.

Anyway, this poem from Word Riot had me thinking about moose:



Myfanwy Collins said...


this poem is heartbreaking! I love your memories of moose. They are so BIG aren't they? Sort of like Buffalo--when you see one up close you realize, "wow. this thing could kill me."

Allen and I met a moose on a thin, thin trail in Glacier National Park in Montana. Luckily it was a cow who wanted nothing more than to get away from us. Had it been a bull we might have been in trouble because it was rutting season and we were very close.

Of course, they say if a moose charges you, you should hide behind a tree and it will forget about you. They are sort of on the same intellectual wavelength as cows.

katrina said...

I didn't know that! That's good advice because yes, they are huge creatures.

Glacier Park must have been amazing!


Kath Fish said...

Oh I've never seen a moose. I'd love to. Katrina, this is so beautifully written and I love the name "Terrible Mountain." I'll go read the poem in Word Riot too....

Web Analytics