by Anne Schuster, Conservation Specialist, Wolf Haven International.
Once upon a dreary dawn I happened to take a walk through Wolf Haven International’s prairie.
The eerie fog did not dissuade me from my journey.
Soon a chill swept over me in a way the cool air could not.
The hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up, and I knew I was not alone.
My destination, the Grandfather Tree, was in sight and my outing would not be cut short by unfounded fears.
Through the swirling fog I could make out white shapes in the distance.
I turned, running for the parking lot, but there were more apparitions behind me.
Innumerable spirits were peeking out at me from behind the mysterious mounds. A howl picked up across the prairie. Was it the truly wolves, or could it be the souls of departed pocket gophers who had untimely deaths?
I turned; there, on the path in front of me were more of the ghostly figures.
Not wanting to be bested by otherworldly things I have no belief in, I sprinted towards the nearest specter. Alas, I found that the prairie haunting was merely trash bags tied to sticks, to scare ravens away from tearing out the newly plugged native prairie plants.