{"id":19500,"date":"2023-04-19T00:17:20","date_gmt":"2023-04-19T00:17:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/?p=19500"},"modified":"2023-04-18T19:19:11","modified_gmt":"2023-04-18T19:19:11","slug":"the-wild-life","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/2023\/04\/19\/the-wild-life\/","title":{"rendered":"THE WILD LIFE"},"content":{"rendered":"

BY JOELLEN COLLINS<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"
JoEllen Collins\u2014a longtime resident of the Wood River Valley\u2014is a teacher, writer, fabric artist, choir member and unabashedly proud grandma known as \u201cBibi Jo.\u201d<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Once upon a time I thought the term \u201cwild life\u201d referred to the temptations surrounding me as a young woman in California invited to the Daisy Club in L.A. during the early seventies or attending a party in Topanga Canyon where the Doors were staying, and cocaine was featured in each room. At the time, I was able to resist the attractions of the people and the drugs because I was a teacher and a bit older than most of the clientele of that era\u2019s fancy places. When I was at the Topanga party and, by that time married, I was not-so-foolishly imagining local papers covering a scoop at that site, with headlines, \u201cSanta Monica High School teacher arrested in canyon drug bust.\u201d<\/p>\n

`Thus, I escaped most of the consequences of what I thought was \u201cwild behavior.\u201d I had learned to treasure another use of the term \u201cwildlife.\u201d My love for wildlife, silly as it sounds now, goes back to\u00a0Bambi, the first Disney movie I saw as a city child.\u00a0When house hunting for my first home, I fell in love with a verdant patch of hillside that, as we approached, bore a sign saying, \u201cWatch For Loose Stock.\u201d That sealed the deal.<\/p>\n

When I was first exposed to the Wood River Valley, decades ago, we were stopped on the way to Ketchum by the highway full of sheep heading south. On top of sensing the joys of this paradise of peace and beauty, I craved once again a place where animals had a strong part of the life there. I wound up in East Fork, where dogs and horses and kids had room to roam.\u00a0\u00a0I will never regret that choice. I love Idaho.<\/p>\n

Now, however, I worry about the wild critters that are increasingly prevalent too near the highways and homes that occupy land once traveled more freely by hungry deer, antelope and elk.\u00a0Two Christmases ago a friend and I were cooking Stollen bread and, while kneading, stopped our work to watch a herd of elk come up from the road below to check us out as they progressed right before our eyes past the home up to the next street.\u00a0What a lovely gift and a reminder of our joy at living here. Almost every day I hear a story about an animal confrontation: a mother moose and her offspring in someone\u2019s backyard for several days; antelope marching elegantly atop the Dollar lift peaks; and, unfortunately, deer carcasses lining Highway 75 too many times, and increased fears of cougars and bears sensing human pets.<\/p>\n

I read as much as I can about this problem, one not easily solved, nor do I claim any expertise toward finding a positive solution to the threat to animals and people in conflicting arenas. The connection I have to nature doesn\u2019t ease the sentimental and caring side of me, as I feel helpless with this conundrum.<\/p>\n

I just hope that my grandchildren will be able to find the kind of places I did by seeing the gentle caution signs I followed.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

BY JOELLEN COLLINS Once upon a time I thought the term \u201cwild life\u201d referred to the temptations surrounding me as a young woman in California invited to the Daisy Club in L.A. during the early seventies or attending a party in Topanga Canyon where the Doors were staying, and cocaine was featured in each room. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":16827,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","_pvb_checkbox_block_on_post":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2,22],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-19500","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-commentary","8":"category-on-lifes-terms"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19500","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=19500"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19500\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":19501,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19500\/revisions\/19501"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/16827"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=19500"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=19500"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=19500"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}