
Moose Tracks: The “Camel” Story
Circa 1972–1973
Back in a small Maine town—North Fryeburg—that’s where my sister and I grew up. We lived on top of a big hill, and every single school day started with a hike down it to catch the short bus.
Yes, we rode the bus.
No, we were not dropped off at the door like today’s luxury models.
Our parents were already at work before we even tied our shoes, so missing that bus wasn’t an option—it was a full-blown personal failure with consequences.
Some mornings our babysitter, Berta—who was equal parts caregiver and second mother—came to our house. Other times, we went to hers. That morning, she came to us, bringing along her daughter, Rachel.
Rachel and Penny were in the same class—best friends, inseparable. Where one went, the other followed. Back then, Rachel didn’t speak due to what we simply called “no talking syndrome,” so my sister Penny became her voice. Which, frankly, meant Rachel didn’t need to talk… and also didn’t talk to me.
We were getting ready to head down the driveway—that long, steep, probably-should’ve-counted-as-cardio hill—when I parked myself at the bay window to keep watch for the bus while slow poke Penny and Rach were doing whatever it was they did before we went to school.
And then…
I saw them.
“I kid you not—there are CAMELS coming up the hill!”
Three of them.
One big one in the middle, and two smaller ones flanking it like a slow-motion parade.
I lost my mind.
“YOU GUYS—COME SEE THESE CAMELS!”
They were just casually strolling up the hill like they owned the place. No rush. No concern. Just… meandering. Like they had a morning appointment and we weren’t it.
Penny and Rachel rushed over, and the three of us stood there, completely mesmerized.
Camels.
In our yard.
In Maine.
It made perfect sense at the time.
And then Berta walked over.
She took one look out the window, paused for half a second, and said:
“You fool, Barbie… those aren’t camels—
they’re moose.”
And just like that…
My grand wildlife discovery collapsed faster than my confidence.
But listen—when you’re a kid on a hill in Maine before coffee was even a thought, perspective gets a little… flexible.
To this day, I still stand by one thing:
From a distance, in the right light… moose have a very convincing hump.
Hope you enjoyed this TRUE story.
Cheers,






































with a topic themed on something with the letter A, then on April second another topic with the letter B as the theme, and so on until you finish on April thirtieth with the theme based on the letter Z. It doesn’t even have to be a word–it can be a proper noun, the letter used as a symbol, or the letter itself. The theme of the day is the letter scheduled for that day.



















































































































