Elk hunting

The cold frosty snow settles over the silent but chaotic wilderness. Atop the hill an ancient, cedar stands scarred by lightning. The giant tamarack stands while the deafening chainsaws do their work. A bonfire crackles and pops. Snowy rocks mist like a steam cleaner, hot and damp. A black bear’s tracks follow the muddy, frosty creek. The stream brown and thick with ice, it looks like a chocolate milkshake. An elk bugles, ”gwaa.” It sounds far off but loud and clear traveling for miles around. The hunter treks across the icy and bitter wilderness. He walks with a determination rarely seen, as he enters the forbidden landscape seen by only a handful of souls.
A small squirrel chatters angrily--announcing a change in the forest. The hunter peers over the ridge, listening intently to the sound of the furious squirrel. He realizes the reason for the squirrel’s anger. A mass of brown and white exits the safety and security of the forest. Elk, the hunter thought. The majestic and beautiful elk enter the clearing, heads scanning for any sign of danger. Unaware of the threat they may face. The hunter unslings his rifle with catlike speed. He throws it up to his shoulder where it fits like a glove. He tries to takes careful aim, but his hand shakes with nervousness. He finds a target, a large tan and brown bull. The spikes on the animal reach towards the sky with almost unimaginable straightness and beauty. The bull turns broadside. The hunter takes one last look, and slowly pulls the trigger.
“Pop,” the gun jerks violently. The hunter’s shot rings out over the immense distances and echoes through the mile wide depths of the canyon.
The herd bolts with amazing speed. The hunter scratches his head, wondering if he hit the amazing animal as he walks silently nearer. As he approaches, he sees the crimson blood of a wounded animal, and then sees the lifeless body of the majestic elk. He looks down as guilt overcomes him. Then a splash of happiness washes over him, as he jumps for joy-- he realizes he has just shot his first elk. Still silent, he nears the body. He looks down and begins the arduous job of cleaning the elk with a smile on his face.
The sun now lays low in the west, its last rays of dying light dance on the snow covered landscape. The long dark shadows of night creep upon the forest. The forest now lay quiet, as the chilly air moves in.