An Arctic Detour: Hanging with Moose
While road-tripping across northern Sweden with her parents, writer and photographer Lola Akinmade stops by a moose farm a few kilometers from the Arctic Circle.
“Can you see them?” whispers Anna-Carin as we make our way through tall blades of yellowish green grass. We wonder what she’s looking at. All we see is grass. Instinctively, she knows where to look for the three-month old twin calves, Klara and Märta.
We finally reach the calves which are huddled together. One of them, Klara, gets up and walks up to Anna-Carin, nuzzling her. “Ida’s their mother,” Anna-Carin points out to a female moose (known as a cow) grazing a hundred or so feet away. “Ida’s only two years old and too inexperienced to raise her babies so they’re mine now,” she adds, gently stroking the baby. “I’ve had to adopt and feed them like my own.”
For hours, we’d tried fruitlessly to spot wild älg (moose in Swedish) as we drove along E10 en route to the Arctic Circle. Sightings are relatively rare, and around northern Sweden, wild moose are known to occasionally dart out into traffic, quite akin to deer freezing in car headlights in the U.S. Often when a moose is spotted, it’s too late for the driver. So when we saw a billboard
pointing to the Arctic Moose Farm two kilometers north of Överkalix, we knew we found a safe way to catch a glimpse.