We had some excitement in the neighborhood earlier this month. I was down in the garden picking raspberries when there was a commotion in the trees in the ravine. I started to sing loudly and continued picking. I thought it was probably deer because we have one that likes to sleep in the garden in the summer—the moose take over the garden in the winter. I had often felt like something was watching me when I was down in the garden this summer but told myself it was imagination. We had noticed the pin cherry bushes and Schubert chokecherry tree had been stripped of berries. There had also been some scat on the road that looked suspiciously like bear-scat.
About three hours after the garden commotion, our neighbor sent me a photo of a black bear in a tree. Apparently, it had also been seen strolling down 206 Avenue.
We were cautious when the grandchildren were here and kept them in the yard. We weren’t able to go and see how the pumpkins in the garden were coming along because I didn’t want them to be that close to the ravine. But, I had to keep picking those raspberries. There was only one day that some of the raspberries seemed to be missing so I thought the bear had either moved on or didn’t like the thorns. Someone told me that they don’t like music so I played some music on my iPhone when I was in the garden.
We heard that a black bear was captured on the Spruce Meadow grounds and relocated. I thought maybe that was our black bear. But, the scat was back on the road a few days later so I think we might have a permanent resident. They do hibernate though--right?
Now, it’s September 29th and we’ve had about eight inches of snow since last evening and more to come overnight. The unripe raspberries, all the annuals and probably all the perennials will be finished for the season. I trimmed most of the perennial beds leaving the ones that were still blooming, but didn’t get to the rock garden. It will wait for me as the forecast is for above zero weather in a few days. In the meantime, heavy, wet snow is blanketing the area. It’s pretty—as long as I’m sitting in the den looking out the window.