Every time I venture out into the wilderness of any kind, whether it’s somewhere far, far, far away from civilization, or literally my own backyard, I have up-close-and-personal encounters with wildlife of all kinds.

Over the weekend, just as the snow really began to fly, I ventured to the valley and was greeted by a huge bobcat crossing the road by God’s Ass. Once at my destination, a whole cast of red-tailed hawks were circling the skies above the rocks. And when I stepped out of my Xterra, camera in hand, one of them swooped right by me, as though it was intentionally trying to get my attention so I could take its picture (which I did). 

A few weeks ago, I came across “El Jefe”, the largest buck in the Ken Caryl Valley, resting in an alcove within one of the valley’s massive red rock formations. He knew I was there, watching and filming him, but he wasn’t threatened by my presence. In fact, he fell into the deepest sleep a muley could fall into, while I sat on the slope of the red rock just yards away from him. One week later, while on an early morning hike during the first freeze of the 2023 fall season, a whole herd of muleys approached me, including does, fawns, and a young forked buck. All I did was stand in the middle of the trail, and let the herd saunter up to me as they browsed for nutritious plants hidden among the stubble grass. 

Again, the deer all knew that I was there, including the fawns. But, yet again, they never once perceived me as a threat, even when my phone slipped out of my cold hands and tumbled closer to them. If I wanted to, I could’ve reached out and stroked the forehead of one of the does as I reached for my phone. But, I didn’t, because I always want to be as ethical, responsible, and careful as possible when interacting with wildlife. 

Sadly, these days, a lot of people fail to understand that most animals are not pettable (is that a word? It is now). People act stupid towards wildlife all the time, often ending up on the news and going viral on social media for their attempts at earning the Darwin award on camera. I’ve even heard of examples of this in my own neighborhood (though thankfully, I haven’t seen it happen in person, knock on wood). And my neighborhood is often praised for being a shining example of humans responsibly coexisting with wildlife (last week, the chief ranger wrote a column in the neighborhood newspaper thanking everyone for taking bear sightings seriously by doing everything we could to mitigate negative interactions with bears). 

I shudder when thinking about what goes on in more public open spaces, where many more people much less familiar with wildlife come to see what Theodore Roosevelt saw over a century ago.