April 5, 2018

Was buying seeds and bulbs when I got a message from the cleaning lady that a mama bear and her cub were in my back yard. “Great,” I thought. She sent a photo of them beside the pond. I got home and was digging a bed for the rhubarb when I saw them, or heard them at first, emerging from behind the tool shed. The mother is very, very big, and the baby very, very tiny, and they look comical together, the baby clearly setting the agenda with a squeal or a dash to one side or the other. She seems to be an excellent mother. I resolved not to be driven out of my own yard, and continued setting the rhubarb while she watched me from the fence. She pulled out the pond pump filter looking for fish, I suppose, or maybe just out of curiosity. The baby practiced climbing on my magnolia tree. I sat on my front porch and watched a mama bear playing with her baby in my front yard. Posted all this on Facebook and received a flood of advice, ranging from call Animal Control right now to please do not call Animal Control ever. Good hiding places around here, but I wouldn’t think there’d be anything to eat, so maybe they’ll move on. As for destruction, they can’t be worse than a couple of teenagers. We’ll see how it all looks in the morning light, now about an hour off.

Terrible rehearsal last night, frantic and loud and strained and I literally voiceless before the end of it. In that respect, I’m not having a good time. But then, there are the bears. . . .