It is common knowledge on our small island that a bear has recently taken up residence here. We’ve had them in the past. The question with acquaintances and strangers became, have you seen him? The question with friends and neighbors became, what are you doing differently on the hiking trail or with your garbage and compost in case the bear comes around?
All sorts of stories started bubbling up from these inquiries:
…the naturalist in Japan who began to sing high on the mountain path as she conducted
mycological research in bear habitat…
…our neighbor who, curiously, put the family’s bee hives on his roof after several recent
bear raids…
…the woman who stayed in a half-built cabin off Vancouver Island and awoke to a
steaming pile of grizzly scat three feet – and one piece of plywood divider away – from
where her head had lain all night…
…the wilderness guide who accidently struck a bear with his truck in the darkness of
night, reported it to the local wildlife authorities, and then made prayerful rituals of
restitution in homage to the bear…
…the videographers up our road who have a nighttime cam in their yard which captured
footage of a bear outside their home…
…and countless stories of bears in their own habitat, intruded upon by Homo sapiens,
who were lured by the scent of food that those humans carried with them…
But a week ago my next-door neighbor told me that she had seen bear scat at the end of our shared driveway down by the dirt road. By the time I investigated, it had been run over. But the plum pits were unmistakable. And the flattened pile bore a strong resemblance to the bear scat I had just seen earlier that morning on a hiking trail in the most remote protected area on our island.
A few mornings ago, I heard a dog barking wildly and went out behind the barn to the compost pile. I did not see a bear feasting on the decaying garden harvest leftovers, but I felt his presence. As I made a wide circle back to our cottage, I saw a huge mound of fresh poop on the gravel driveway; it was perhaps twenty-five yards from my front door. It contained undigested plum pits and seeds just as I’d seen in the other bear piles!
Indeed, we have our own visiting bear. Here. Sharing this property.
I daydream about seeing this bear, and he comes to my night dreams too. I am keeping a vigilant eye and ear out for his presence. I deeply respect his power. What a blessing to be in the midst of all this wild unfolding.
All blog images created & photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: "©2019 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."
