A black bear gets a drink of water from Lake Creek in Grand Teton National Park. A pair of bull moose in velvet stroll through the Gros Ventre River north of Jackson. Humans, too, are entrenched in our reliance on these thin, winding ribbons of water. Ranchers draw from rivers and streams to irrigate their hayfields, towns crop up along their green banks and anglers wade in the icy flows as they maneuver their lines for sport, relaxation and a fresh trout dinner. Wyoming's rivers are a gathering ground for creatures big and small. Wait patiently on their banks and you may be afforded a glimpse of a crossing elk or the tail slap of a beaver. You will see signs of the birds that rely on these waters. The rivers are constantly changing with the seasons, and the wildlife weaving in and out of their domain arrange their lifestyles around the flow. There was a tranquil day last September when I found myself an unsuspecting observer to the natural connection between wildlife and the river in a newly-forming riparian area. It was during the ambiguous time between summer and autumn when cool water feels invigorating against your skin, but the cold clings to damp clothing as soon as the sun sinks below the mountainous horizon. I was wet-wading a side channel of the Snake River that a few years previously had deserted the rushing torrent of the main channel to seep sneakily amid a tangle of towering conifer trees. It felt almost dreamlike - strolling through a large stand of fir and spruce. The forest floor was Wyoming Wildlife | 41