Welcome statement
“Parting Words from Moristotle” (07/31/2023)
tells how to access our archives
of art, poems, stories, serials, travelogues,
essays, reviews, interviews, correspondence….
By Paul Clark (aka motomynd)
One of my most interesting moose encounters came while canoeing. My canoeing partner and I rounded the tip of a small island in the famed Quetico-Superior region, and there was a classic scene: a moose in deep water, feeding, with just its head and back above the surface and aquatic weeds and grasses draped over its antlers. A moose can swim, but not so fast we couldn’t out-paddle it – for a short distance anyway – so we moved closer to take photos. I was in the front of the canoe – the bow – so I was closest to the moose. We had a gentle breeze behind us, pushing us toward the moose, so I laid my paddle across the canoe from side to side, and grabbed my camera while my partner steadied us with his paddle.
By Paul Clark (aka motomynd)
This is an excerpt from my autobiography Stories for My Son, so I will ask other readers to bear with me as I address my son directly. Son: Hopefully I am with you when you see your first moose, for they are truly magnificent animals and I would love to see another one. I would especially love to see one that was not trying to kill me. In case I am not with you, however, here is what you need to know: When you see your first moose, do not stand there in awe thinking “Wow! That is a really big deer!” Instead, devote those few calm seconds – before chaos descends – to looking for a tree small enough to climb, yet big enough that a moose can’t reach you or knock it down. Why? Because, when you see a moose nearby, you need the biggest head start you can manage: Moose are a family curse that traces back at least as far as your great-grandfather.
