A Canyon, a Cliff, and a Bobcat--Back Off!
Upon our arrival, we immediately heard the tale of a canyon, a cliff, and a Bobcat. Bobcat sightings are extremely rare in the park, and no research has been conducted in Yellowstone to determine the numbers or distribution of this elusive animal that usually is solitary, nocturnal, and widely scattered over its range. Within the park there is a small canyon through which a fast river flows. On one side is a narrow park road, and on the other is an embankment which meets up with sheer cliff wall, rising up about 300’. It is a secluded area, boxed off from easy access for most wildlife. It was there that our tale unfolded. The duality of nature is apparent to any keen observer, and Yellowstone is no exception. On Monday, a mule deer went over the cliff, falling to its death. Whether it stumbled or was chased, no one will ever know. One can see the impressions made in the deep snow where it fell and then slid a bit where it came to rest. While the cliff had stolen the life of the mule deer, it now provided a gift. Where the Bobcat came from, no one is sure. There was a second set of impressions to the left of the Mule deer. Could the cat have gone over the cliff with it? They are light, the snow was deep, and cats are known to land on their feet, but Bobcats are also very adept at climbing up and down rock edifices. We were left to choose our own version of events. Clearly, the Bobcat found itself in a most desirable position. A week’s supply of fresh meat, relatively protected from any intrusive wolves or coyotes. Even the sharp eyed Ravens appeared thwarted. And so while nature takes, it also generously provides. The Bobcat remained on the carcass for over a week. There was nothing to disturb it, except 100 or so photographers and snowmobilers who watched from far across the river. Our group spent over 10 hours, over several days, photographing the scene, taking advantage of this rare gift of a glimpse into the animal’s life and personality. Initially, I struggled a great deal with an unfamiliar lens, but in the end, I was well rewarded, and as Steve Gettle says (along with pretty much all photographers), “You can never have too much glass.” Most images taken at 1340mm (600mm prime with 1.4x converter and 1.6x Canon R7 crop body) and then heavily cropped.
A Canyon, a Cliff, and a Bobcat--Back Off!
Upon our arrival, we immediately heard the tale of a canyon, a cliff, and a Bobcat. Bobcat sightings are extremely rare in the park, and no research has been conducted in Yellowstone to determine the numbers or distribution of this elusive animal that usually is solitary, nocturnal, and widely scattered over its range. Within the park there is a small canyon through which a fast river flows. On one side is a narrow park road, and on the other is an embankment which meets up with sheer cliff wall, rising up about 300’. It is a secluded area, boxed off from easy access for most wildlife. It was there that our tale unfolded. The duality of nature is apparent to any keen observer, and Yellowstone is no exception. On Monday, a mule deer went over the cliff, falling to its death. Whether it stumbled or was chased, no one will ever know. One can see the impressions made in the deep snow where it fell and then slid a bit where it came to rest. While the cliff had stolen the life of the mule deer, it now provided a gift. Where the Bobcat came from, no one is sure. There was a second set of impressions to the left of the Mule deer. Could the cat have gone over the cliff with it? They are light, the snow was deep, and cats are known to land on their feet, but Bobcats are also very adept at climbing up and down rock edifices. We were left to choose our own version of events. Clearly, the Bobcat found itself in a most desirable position. A week’s supply of fresh meat, relatively protected from any intrusive wolves or coyotes. Even the sharp eyed Ravens appeared thwarted. And so while nature takes, it also generously provides. The Bobcat remained on the carcass for over a week. There was nothing to disturb it, except 100 or so photographers and snowmobilers who watched from far across the river. Our group spent over 10 hours, over several days, photographing the scene, taking advantage of this rare gift of a glimpse into the animal’s life and personality. Initially, I struggled a great deal with an unfamiliar lens, but in the end, I was well rewarded, and as Steve Gettle says (along with pretty much all photographers), “You can never have too much glass.” Most images taken at 1340mm (600mm prime with 1.4x converter and 1.6x Canon R7 crop body) and then heavily cropped.