July 24

I opened the sunroom door this morning to discover that both bird feeder poles were bent straight over to the ground, and one feeder itself had gone missing entirely. The dogs padded out in my wake and immediately became curious of some foreign scent in the vicinity, both noses to the ground weaving about. Tag paused just once to look up with what appeared to be a quizzical expression, as if he were to exclaim “what in the world is that?”

I suspect there’s been a black bear come up from the lower woods, intent on easy pickings from the black sunflower seed and suet cakes, which we keep well stocked. There have been several sightings of bear in Paxton over the past couple of years, which isn’t too surprising given how the town sees fit to allow more woodland acreage to be cut over to development.

The same city folks who then move this way, desirous of life in the country, will undoubtedly complain about the intrusion of wildlife in their yards. Such is the hypocrisy of things.

We have town members who serve on committees charged with preserving the open space and agricultural heritage while at the same time they advocate for the destruction of such land to accommodate unnecessary senior housing complexes. Were it not so irreversible, it might be pathetically comical.

I put on tall muck boots and a mesh shirt designed to confuse the deer flies and headed down the access road toward the lower woods, intent on finding the feeder. No such luck, though the suet holder did turn up a hundred yards from the house.

How the bear managed to ferry that feeder across the berm, through the tall brush, and to Lord knows where I will never know.

Notes:

Pokeweed in bloom