Cloud Wolves are thought to be a subspecies of Canis lupus (gray wolf) called Canis lupus nubilus or the plains wolf. In Latin, nubilus means cloudy. So the name is an affectionate nod to their coats, which come in various shades of gray (whites and blacks) and buff (warmer tones like brown and yellow).

I found myself, in the middle of the subarctic, looking for these elusive animals. Remote, disconnected and far from any sense of modernity; without my conscious knowing I wouldn't be able to tell what century it was. The landscape and the animals have remained largely left alone. It's a place where the tremendous depth of time is palpable and where I can't help but feel insignificant amongst it all.

Because of their remoteness and living in the confines of a protected area in northern Canada, the wolves in this area of the subarctic have likely never been hunted. Making them all the more curious about us.

While there, I saw this young female wolf many times. Most encounters were fleeting but this one in particular, she lingered. She sat atop a snow drift looking out into the forest. Ears pointed where her eyes were. Every so often she'd stir and change her position to gaze in another direction. Until finally, her eyes locked with mine. I raised my camera to make a few images and lowered to gaze back. The privilege of meeting the gaze of a wild wolf stirs something inside of me every time.

A few moments later she looked away, eyes and ears fixed on finding whatever, or whoever, she was looking for. It's hard making a living as a wolf and making a living as a lone wolf? That might be one of the hardest endeavors in the wild.

I often think of her. I wonder where she is, what she's doing and if she's still alone out there.

Since the making of this image, I've come to know this wolf. Well, as much as you can know a wild wolf.

But this was our first meeting.

It was a mid-May evening and I was walking down an old access road in Yellowstone National Park before the sun dipped behind the trees. You never know what you'll come across out there. I puttered around, looked at some old bones and just sat and listened. I was about ready to head back to my car when she appeared. Nonchalantly, she trotted down a dusty hillside and right in my direction. Her body language matched mine, easeful. Hackles down, ears forward, mouth and tail relaxed. Her gaze would wander but she'd always end up looking right back at me. Almost as if she was keeping tabs on me, and in hindsight that is almost certainly what she was doing.

We shared nearly 5 minutes together, a rarity especially in the American west but this felt intentional. As if in some alternate universe we knew each other.

I've since seen her dozens of times, but not like this. I often wonder if she remembers me in any way. If my scent is familiar or if my presence is peaceful. If only she knew the immense joy and importance of her one, wild life.

A chance encounter with a wolf from the Wapiti Lake Pack in Yellowstone National Park. 'She is made for this,' I reminded myself as I stood in awe of how effortlessly she moved across the snow covered valley. And I was poignantly reminded, I was, in fact, not made for this. Bundled head to toe in the warmest winter clothing I own and I was still shivering.

At the time of writing this, she is two years old and likely taking care of the next generation of Wapiti wolves. But she wasn't always...responsible. When wolves are yearlings (one year olds), they're renegades. They're exploring a whole new world, testing every single boundary and seemingly fearless. That was this wolf to a T.

I watched as she crossed the river, her reflection floated beneath her and every now and then she'd nose the water.

To me, this moment speaks to the profound connection wolves share with the landscapes they inhabit. They move through the world in ways we can scarcely imagine; feeling subtle vibrations through their paw pads, catching scents carried for miles on the wind and relying on remarkably keen hearing and eyesight. Every sense is attuned to the rhythms of their surroundings.

They do not simply exist within the landscape; they are part of it, living in a constant state of reciprocity with the wild.

The wildest places and nature's wildest animals are still delicate; each one shaped by cycles of change. Moments like this show a side of wolves that is seldom seen. Moments not defined by hardship or survival, but by quiet belonging. She is woven into the fabric of these landscapes, playing an essential role in the balance of the very ecosystem she walks within.