Its message is carried through the dark forests of lodgepole pine by the whips and whistles of icy wind. And on some nights, even from the comfort of a fireplace warmed lodge, the howl of a lone wolf is heard far off in the distance. He howls in that familiar, yet rare to your ears, call. For what, or who, does he call?
“Deep in the forest a call was sounding, and as often as he heard this call, mysteriously thrilling and luring, he felt compelled to turn his back upon the fire and the beaten earth around it, and to plunge into the forest, and on and on, he knew not where or why; nor did he wonder where or why, the call sounding imperiously, deep in the forest.”
― Jack London, The Call of the Wild
There are a number of things about wintertime in Yellowstone National Park that stand out. Human visitation is low, wildlife numbers (and thus sightings) are typically high, and the landscape becomes a quiet tapestry of white, covered in blankets of deep powdery snow. An average snowfall of 150 inches transforms Yellowstone National Park into a 2.2 million-acre ice world wonderland of hunters and the hunted.