Bears

 

Sometime in the night we had another visit from our neighbourhood bear.

That’s the fourth time that we know of, and we know because each time (s)he knocks over one of our compost bins.

The first time the bear harvested the wormy pears. The second time it removed our candle-cooked pumpkin. I have no idea what it’s after now; perhaps it has discovered a taste for quince?

Anyway, this morning, as I was shovelling very soggy and largely undecomposed compost in the drizzle, I discovered the joy and humour of the moment and situation had eluded me.

It’s getting on to late November, time for bears to start denning up.

Although, judging from the footprints after a snowfall some years back, I’m not sure they do in our climate.

On the subject of bears, I saw a mom and two cubs while I was walking in the Beaver Lodge Lands this morning.

I stopped when I saw mom, and started to talk to her as I was removing my phone from my coat. Then I saw her cubs.

They clearly wanted to go where I was, but I wasn’t leaving, so eventually mom turned down the log and ambled into the bush, followed by the cubs.

The photo shows only one cub; you have to imagine the other behind the greenery.