Stephanie Peters

I'm always fascinated by the spiritual and cultural significance animals have for certain people. In one interpretation, if you see elk in your dreams it suggests you’ll find yourself in the thick of something exciting or in a lot of trouble.  Since I’ve been drawing a lot of elk recently, they have been showing up in my dreams so I'm hoping I’ll be in the thick of something exciting and not trouble... though aren’t we all kind of living in both everyday? 

This winter has been perfect for hibernating. The highs have been in the negative numbers and it seems like every day it snows. So I’m pretty convinced every Iowan is secretly a bear because I’m not sure how else they survive winter every year without hibernating. Most days, I’m hiding inside wearing fuzzy socks and oversized comfy sweaters, and dreaming of sunshine… But some evenings when its above zero and not snowing, it is the perfect time to go find some geese – like tonight! These little sunshine moments make spending the winter in the arctic worth it…  

It’s still way too cold to actually draw anything outside, but Neil and I find ways to huddle in the car and sketch with our binoculars while sipping hot coffee. Tonight was no different… we watched hundreds of geese land on lake Icaria, and photographed and sketched a few:

All the geese we have seen at Lake Icaria this winter have been Canada geese. Tonight, we also saw seven trumpeter swans and a couple dozen mallards but mostly, it was hundreds of Canada geese flying in and it's quite a sight! Something to look forward to in in this otherwise cold and gray season. But, the temperatures are finally rising (into the 30s!), and the days are getting longer, which only means spring migration is coming soon and we'll see more than just geese... and of course all of these migrating birds - Canada geese included - are fueling my migrating bird fascination...

Last summer, before we came to Corning, Neil and I camped around western Iowa – I know, maybe a bad idea during a pandemic, but we were safe and stuck to only our camper to avoid any contact. One of the places we camped was Botna Bend Park in Hancock, Iowa.

Located right next to a grain silo, Botna Bend Park is a little spot of inspiration in an otherwise non-descript ordinary rural town. Not only is the campsite right next to the West Branch East Nishnabotna River (which apparently flooded extensively in 2019) but it is home to a herd of Bison and a herd of Elk.  One of the highlights of our visit there was when we first arrived, we witnessed the first few days of an elk calf’s life. Though very late in the breeding season, we watched how the newborn calf stayed isolated from the rest of the herd during the day and then watched it start to assimilate with the group when it was ready – which occurs around 10 – 14 days.

Typically, in the wild, elks give birth in the spring, but I imagine with the elk enclosed and fed well, their natural mating and birthing cycle is skewed – which could explain why we were lucky to see their interaction so late in the summer.

Each morning and evening, we would go out and watch the calf and mother interact. And of course, that is where the moment that inspired this pastel came from. Though I could have been anthropomorphizing the mother elk a bit, I could see how she cared for and cherished her newborn. It was an extraordinary moment to be a part of in an otherwise ordinary little town in Iowa. Though everything is extraordinary if you really stop and observe.