Bears and birdseed don't mix. No, that's not right. Bears and birdseed do mix, as we learned this week when we arrived down at Tiny House Land to find the thick metal hook that had been holding our bird feeder bent to the ground. We didn't see a bear do this, it's true. But we've had two recent beer sightings, and it's hard to believe any of our regular visitors—deer, possums, groundhogs, turkeys, skunks, frogs and songbirds—were capable of smashing the bird feeder to the ground, knocking rocks around and leaving such big impressions in the garden soil.
I saw a bear one evening last week when I got up to put a log on our campfire. He or she was sipping from the creek-let on the far side of our screen house. It was still light enough that I could stand there paralyzed and stare at the bear's profile. Bill asked what was wrong. "Bear," I finally got out. Bill stood and turned in time to see the bear run up the mountain. A week earlier Bill and Susan saw a bear a little farther off. These bear sightings—plus the non-sighting where the bird feeder used to be—remind me that other creatures have lived in these woods a lot longer than us.
"Shy and secretive, the sighting of a bear is a rare treat for most Virginians," according to ursine expert Linda Masterson in Living with Bears: A Practical Guide to Bear Country. I find myself making a lot more noise when I tromp down the path to the house. Bill's the same way; he does a lot more whistling now. We don't want to surprise some shy, unsuspecting bear. Plus, we've permanently removed the bird feeder. Also from Masterson: "It takes a bear many hours of foraging on natural foods to get the 12,000-plus calories it can down in five minutes at a bird feeder."
I saw a bear one evening last week when I got up to put a log on our campfire. He or she was sipping from the creek-let on the far side of our screen house. It was still light enough that I could stand there paralyzed and stare at the bear's profile. Bill asked what was wrong. "Bear," I finally got out. Bill stood and turned in time to see the bear run up the mountain. A week earlier Bill and Susan saw a bear a little farther off. These bear sightings—plus the non-sighting where the bird feeder used to be—remind me that other creatures have lived in these woods a lot longer than us.
"Shy and secretive, the sighting of a bear is a rare treat for most Virginians," according to ursine expert Linda Masterson in Living with Bears: A Practical Guide to Bear Country. I find myself making a lot more noise when I tromp down the path to the house. Bill's the same way; he does a lot more whistling now. We don't want to surprise some shy, unsuspecting bear. Plus, we've permanently removed the bird feeder. Also from Masterson: "It takes a bear many hours of foraging on natural foods to get the 12,000-plus calories it can down in five minutes at a bird feeder."