Your e-mail handle was "the traveling moose."
I saw a moose in Maine one time on TV. A man
came out of a store. It kicked him to death. Who's
going to mess with something like that? “I can,”
I thought. When my guides embrace me at the end,
I want no reproach for being self-absorbed,
too timid, too much alone. “No, I don't intend
to live in fear!” the lion in me roared.
“Ride the untamable moose. Perform your stunts
with hat in hand, my bucko. Do not take less
than the terror and joy at the crux of things.” Once
you turned and said with a certain ruefulness,
"I see I have not scared you off." Good guess.
“Not even a chance," I answered under my breath.