— Dennis Richardson
We are here on vacation in Wolf Creek, Utah.
I am wondering about the validity of the name
when I notice that all the mountains are pink.
Now I am wondering if I stumbled into a little
girl’s book of pink. Wolves that live in a book
with pink mountains would probably be pink too.
I am afraid of pink wolves.
The trailhead for Moose Loop is at the base of Wolf
Mountain, which is pink. I realize that a moose
hasn’t made the loop and wonder if a pink wolf could.
But I haven’t come here for the moose.
Any other self-respecting Autumn mountains
would not look like these, covered in pink.
I can’t believe all of the mountains are literally dressed
in light cranberry-pink A-form dresses. I have never
heard of a mountain maple that pinks up for Autumn.
They say the moose up here are everywhere.
I haven’t seen a moose or a wolf, pink or otherwise.
But at every turn of the trail, the occasional yellow
quaking aspen or tall green fir, only make each pink
setting more original, more beautiful than the last.
Then suddenly I have an embarrassing thought.
It’s like I’m looking up the pink dress of a she
mountain. But I swear I am not. I am only looking
up to see if there are any antlers in the treetops.