Magical Days

by Sarah Brooks, Associate Director

Some days are just magical.  They start out like any old day, but somewhere along the line they transform into one of those make-you-thankful days emblazoned in your memory forever.

Yesterday was one of those days for me.  Here’s how it unfolded:

After dropping my daughter off at the bus stop, I came into work knowing I had a lot to do before my 8:30 meeting with a dedicated volunteer and then a 9:00 meeting with our Finance Committee to discuss the budget for next fiscal year.  My mind was on numbers and spreadsheets, dwindling government grant funds and the like—nothing really all that magical. 

I knew our conference room downstairs would be chilly, so I decided to run down stairs (our only stairwell is outside the building) and quickly turn on the heat so we could at least talk finances in some comfort. 



The stairwell, with the window I would look out framed in blue.



I remember taking the stairs somewhat slowly.  They are old and wooden and tend to be very slippery on cold winter mornings.  I stood on our lower deck and unlocked the door.  I walked through Stewardship Director Heide Andersen’s tidy office space and entered the conference room.  The light switches were to my right, next to the large picture window that so often can distract us in meetings as we watch all the activity at the confluence of the Methow and Chewuch Rivers. 

I turned to the right to flip the switches and looked out the window.  My angle had me peering into the space under the stairwell I had just carefully come down.  I remember freezing, stopped in awe.  I was looking at a cougar, no more than 5 feet away under the stairs standing up and looking right at me.  (Sorry, no picture…I was too stunned!)

He was beautiful and powerful and our eyes locked.  We stared at each other for what seemed like a really long time (though I admit time stopped, while I wondered if I had really closed the door firmly and reminded myself that I was not at a zoo peering through glass, but right here at work).  His tail was thick and long and so noticeable and graceful.  His head was small and compact and inquisitive.  His paws seemed huge. 

The view from the window.

I felt a rush of adrenaline, a wave of respectful fear, and most of all just so lucky.  What a beautiful animal, so rarely seen.  I admit to also feeling a tinge of guilt, for I’m sure my stair climbing had disturbed its quiet place of comfort.  It was one of those moments when you really consider your place in the universe and feel rather appropriately small.

I broke our gaze and went around the room to the phone.  I figured I should alert my co-workers, so no one else would come down the stairs and surprise the cougar.  It was then that it dawned on me that I was somewhat trapped downstairs, for the only way up was to traverse the stairwell by the cougar.  No one had yet arrived upstairs and I wasn’t quite sure what to do.

I don’t think I thought through the next 20 minutes very rationally or clearly.  All of my co-workers were in transit, so I didn’t catch anyone, except a few spouses who I’m sure were not expecting such a call.  I worried especially about my 8:30 volunteer, who would find the office unlocked upstairs, but no one there and then might try to come downstairs.

The tracks we found around the deck.

I heard his footsteps on the stairs and I rushed to the door to shout a word of warning, sure that by now the cougar had probably moved on his way, but still, just to be safe… And as I got to the door, the cougar popped out from under the stairwell area (guess he had been there all along just out of my view) and he ran across the deck just a few feet from where I stood inside behind the closed door.  He ran upriver with the most graceful, quiet, yet strong and fast gait I’ve ever seen.

At this point, the volunteer and I met on the deck and looked after the direction the cougar had gone, though he quickly disappeared from sight.  We shared a stunned expression.



The cougar resting before relocation.



We called the Fish and Wildlife experts to let them know about the sighting. By mid-afternoon, they had tracked the animal and tranquilized him so they could relocate him to a more remote location.  They were kind enough to stop by our office and let us have a look at our visitor as he slept in their truck.  They figure he was about a year and a half old, 100 lbs or so, and a male.  He was collared and would be released with a deer carcass for a first meal.



My concentration the rest of the day was a bit shot.  I made it through the budget meeting and my other tasks, but always I was thinking about the cougar.  Where was he?  Was he scared, disoriented?  Did my stunned face still resonate in his memory as his did in mine?  And, still today, I wonder about his fate.  I’d like to think that there is plenty of space for all of us to thrive.

In the end, there’s no word to describe the encounter, really, other than magical.  I’ve been known to say several times a week that I can’t believe how lucky I am to live in the Methow Valley, but when I concluded recanting my cougar encounter to my daughter last night, I found myself saying it with even more passion than ever.  How did I get so lucky?