Bears

 

October 9, 2021

Days of remarkable rain. I actually welcome them, as they allow me to work indoors without a sense of regret. 

Writing yesterday I heard a bang downstairs. I knew it was likely bears, but it didn’t sound like window glass or a shattering door, so I wasn’t too alarmed. Went down to find five bears in my yard– cavorting is the proper word. One big cub had another backed into the driveside lilac wrestling for dear life. Ruth Bader Ginsbear found the peanuts I’d put out for the birds, and the old eggs I’d put in the garden for the crows. Two adolescents had joined mama and her two– it was like a mother taking the neighborhood kids to the park one afternoon. As one cub entered the front garden, a rabbit who had been hiding there rocketed out the other side. They moved at some speed. You think of the pace of bears being leisurely. It isn’t in the city. In her effort to get the peanuts, mama bear knocked a big planter off the porch (it’s unbroken) and someone overturned a birdbath onto several ceramic flower pots, smashing them. If your stuff is going to get broken, let it be by bears.

Went to the Asheville School yesterday afternoon to talk with the cast of Washington Place. The Italian and Jewish girls are mostly black and Asian, and Avi the New York Jew is black. I realized as I watched a bit of rehearsal that it didn’t make the difference I thought it might. Arrived in time to see a bit of the rehearsal of the fire scene. One of the actresses assured me that nobody on campus knows anything about the Triangle Shirtwaist fire and that the end will be a shock and a surprise. I’d forgotten what a large and imposing institution the Asheville School is– bigger than some colleges, certainly bigger than Hiram. Perhaps I’d never been there in daylight. The kids look happy and eager and welling with privilege. 

D writes me a thank-you note wherein he assures me that the wedding was consummated during the honeymoon I contributed to. 

JU apparently landed at Akron U.