Big Gray and the Raven
COLORADO WOLF STORIES XV
Note: This continuing story is a work of informed speculation. It tells the imagined experiences of a family of gray wolves who represent the 10 actual wolves captured in Oregon and released in Colorado in December 2023 as directed by a state voter initiative.
The big gray wolf is a picture of canine contentment.
He inhales deeply, then his breath fogs in the frigid morning air, drifting away like the song of a canyon wren.
From this favorite spot on the snowy hillside above his family’s winter rendezvous site, he enjoys a commanding view of the world around him. Nothing moves across it that he does not see. There is nothing out of place that he fails to notice.
Of particular note today are two of the upright creatures, on a ridge line crouching among the trees about a mile and a half away. They have been watching him since before first light, and have scarcely moved during that time. Perhaps they believe they are hidden from view.
Big Gray is alert to these intruders but not alarmed. He knows they will eventually leave. This is not the first time they have appeared on the ridge despite his repeated efforts to mark it as off limits.
He has long understood that upright creatures are dangerous and to be avoided at all costs. Because this particular pair never stays long and never comes close, their distant presence is tolerated.
This way in which the gray wolf is responding to his world could be called—coexistence.
Before dawn this morning, the coal-black female and her black wolf brother set off to inspect their territory. The family routinely monitors the surrounding area for signs of trespass, and they are ever alert to fresh elk or deer scat.
Amber-Eyes, Green-Eyes, and Little Wolf eagerly joined in the expedition at first, but their volunteer status did not last long. Big Gray soon saw the pups running through the woods in another direction entirely, likely chasing a snowshoe hare or a noisy tassel-eared squirrel.
As the sun finally breaks above the cloudy horizon, it throws a slanting yellow light across the blue winter landscape. The sharp mountain peaks are cloaked in snow and etched in shadows. Those good hunting grounds in the green summertime offer only starvation this time of year. Everything that sustains life for the wolf and his family is now down in this valley.
There are dangers here too, however, because this is the year-round habitat of the upright creatures. This is where they make their homes with their smoky fires and barking dogs, and where there are many roads on which they move about in fast and deadly machines.
But at this moment all is quiet and peaceful. Even the watching ones on the ridge are gone now.
A raven glides onto the scene and perches in a nearby tree. She fluffs her feathers and fixes a shiny black eye on the reclining wolf.
Big Gray notes but ignores her. His thick fur is now brightly lit by the sunrise, and he is enjoying its warmth. He yawns and lays his head down on his outstretched legs. His ears twitch, his breathing slows, and he is soon asleep.
Within moments, a shadow passes over the sleeping canine. There is a whisper of wings but he does not stir. Then a small black form steps toward him across the packed snow. Suddenly, the wolf feels a tugging on his tail which jerks him out of his dream state. He raises his head, and quickly comprehends that the agent of his awakening is the familiar black bird.
Raven cocks her head at the wolf and gives him a questioning look. Then she nips at his tail again. In a flash he snaps at her, but Raven makes an easy flapping jump backward, well out of reach. She calmly regards the wolf and gives him a scratchy, irritating caw.
Enough of this! Big Gray jumps to his feet and lunges forward, baring his teeth and snapping ferociously, but Raven simply rises into the air in a blur of wings. She hovers above the leaping wolf, screeching at him.
The nature of this encounter is still uncertain, but the players are clearly mismatched: A 120-pound predatory mammal and a 2-pound bird, each among the most intelligent creatures of their kind. One is capable of reducing the other to a cloud of feathers but the provocative corvid has an advantage that makes all the difference at the moment—only Raven can fly.
Big Gray runs back and forth under his flapping antagonist, growling in excitement and frustration.
Raven then lights on the lowest branch of a ponderosa. Gray wolf pauses to assess the new circumstances, then he explodes into a running leap at the trunk of the tree. Using his front paws to bounce off it, he pushes upward, and comes just inches short of his feathery target. He backs up, produces a growling wolf-bark, then runs and lunges again, jaws snapping. Raven caws loudly at him, then launches from her branch and glides away, low above the ground.
Big Gray whirls about and races after her, kicking up snow as he barrels down the meadow in hot pursuit.
And so, in this fashion—whether it is a deadly chase, a game, or something else entirely—corvid and canine travel across the landscape. She circles back now and then, flying low above the running wolf, who leaps at her when he can. They eventually come to a snow-packed dirt road. Raven follows its course and the big gray races to catch up.
But now the wolf tenses and slows, suddenly noting the sounds and smells of a bigger, busier road ahead. This is a Black Road, and Big Gray knows it is a particularly dangerous place. Here, the upright creatures’ machines move very fast and in greater numbers. Here he must be very careful.
Long ago, in the home he left far behind, his family tried to cross a road such as this on a dark night. His parents waited to assure a quiet moment, then led the way, moving swiftly, but just as he and his siblings began to cross, one of the terrifying machines came roaring out of the darkness. He and his brothers dashed for safety but his sister was transfixed by the machine’s bright lights, and she froze in fear right in the middle of the Black Road. As the family looked on helplessly, she was run down.
Why has this foolish bird come to this dangerous place?
Raven has perched on a tall pole where the two roads come together, and she calls to the wolf. Just then, a particularly noisy creature machine roars by and the wolf flinches, crouching amid the snow-covered shrubs. In that same moment, Big Gray notices an intriguing scent rising above the oily stink of this place. It is the scent of a fresh carcass.
Now he sees it. Below the road, hidden among the brush at the mouth of a wide culvert, is a dead mule deer. Its twisted form is nested in the snow, and attended by a small mob of ravens and magpies. They are all standing on the carcass, and they are looking at the wolf.
Sometime during the night, the deer was clipped and killed by one of the passing machines but the body remains intact. Though these scavenging birds are smart, they are not equipped to tear through the tough hide to get to the meat.
Unless they can encourage the services of a powerful carnivore who can.
Big Gray moves toward the dead deer, and the squawking mob scatters. He has not the slightest concept of gratitude toward the raven who lured him here, nor of any resentment at being manipulated by the clever bird. Opening a carcass, however, is something he well understands, and he rips into his unexpected meal with expert relish.
And as the gray wolf feeds, Raven fluffs her feathers, she bides her time, and waits her turn.
I am so looking forward to hanging out with the wolves in a few short weeks. These stories bring me closer to their world than I ever thought I could imagine. Thank you for that connection. L, S
Like the others have written,
I also enjoyed the interaction between wolf and Raven. It was easily pictured and made me smile.