Alaska Diary by Michio Hoshino August draws to a close. The air, which grows crisper each day, gradually dyes the surface of the Earth. The blueberries and cranberries ripen, and together with the dwarf birch and the willows, their leaves turn a flaming red and yellow. About the time the sandhill cranes head south in their great V formations, changes begin to take place within the forest as well. I hear a low, groaning voice with a steady rhythm.
Giant antlers weave their way through the spruce trees.
A moose appears with a branch of willow dangling from his antlers, the yellow leaves half veiling his face. The eyes that peer through the leaves are not the gentle eyes of summer. In half a day, he rubs the velvet from his antlers. It dangles down in so many strips. The moose has entered the rutting season.