Bear with me...

It's been too long since I've posted anything here. And really, I have no excuse. Stuff just sometimes happens, I guess. 

But I suppose I was reminded that I'd said something to the effect that I'd write about the bears we saw when we went up the coast last month. 

And now bears seem to be everywhere in the news! There was one in Alberta that must have freaked out a couple of tourists from Thailand. Another report cites how many black bears are being killed here in BC. But the crummiest of these has to be the killing of a bear that wandered onto a golf course in a park in the city of Burnaby. I really don't understand why it wasn't tranquilized and relocated. 

When I raised this question with my husband, he figured it had everything to do with costs. And yes, I reckon it's a lot cheaper to shoot and kill a bear than to hire the transport to take it someplace safe. 

If every decision in our contemporary world is based on money, well, I give up and we're all screwed. 

But to take your mind off such negative thoughts, here's a video I took when we were on our northern tour. Yep, those are mighty big claws, but all they're doing is digging for clams or other tasty bits along the shore. As for the shakiness, that wasn't fear. It's simply the fact that I was standing on a boat and small waves were rocking us a bit. 

Wildlife abounds

So many different examples of wildlife live within the bounds of Yellowstone. In many instances, we'd spot them because the side of the road would be lined up with cars, people in and out of their vehicles, clicking with cameras and phones. I admit, I was certainly one of them, or I wouldn't have managed the above shot of the bear climbing down from the tree he'd been in (although yes, I stayed in the truck and used my zoom).

Still, there were many times we'd just watch as the animals grazed or strolled about.

In some ways, the elk were the ones that made me saddest. They'd obviously grown so accustomed to humans, they gathered in the town of Mammoth (on Yellowstone's north side) and lay around beside the buildings, taking advantage of the shade. Although there were many warning signs to keep one's distance, many foolish souls ventured (I thought) too near. With all that forest and grassland about, it was downright weird to see them lolling about on lawn.

The nearby town of Gardiner had antelope grazing on its high school football field. I suppose they keep the grass down nicely, but clearly, they too were accustomed to humans. There's something about this intersection of people with wildlife that makes me wonder who will win out. Somehow, as I consider coyotes, raccoons, deer -- and even bears -- who keep 'invading' what we like to think of as 'our' space, I question whose space is whose, or can land really ever be claimed by anyone?

To me, the most majestic of the animals were the bison. Whether they were standing atop the crest of hill, or simply grazing in a grassy field, they are such a powerful reminder of what this continent looked like not even 200 years ago.

Our luckiest viewing of them was one where we were (for quite a few minutes) the only people who'd spotted a small herd of them attempting to ford the Yellowstone River.

The bull who was obviously their leader watched from the shore as a group swam out into the river. Although I couldn't hear it, he apparently gave some sign and, as one, the herd turned back. Soon after, they set out from a spot slightly further north on the shore and this time, they managed to make it. Quite the sight, and one I will long remember -- almost enough to make me think I might be living in the 1800s and not the techno-2000s.

After they crossed the river, we thought we might have seen the best of Yellowstone, so again, we moved on -- this time, into South Dakota.

Poem bears

Turns out that yesterday was International Polar Bear Day. If it weren't for those video news blats the Internet providers love to insert, I'd never have even known it. And I somehow doubt that many others would have either.

My observation of the day ranges from the silly set-up photo above (who says it doesn't pay to not defrost in a timely manner?) to the poem below, expressing some of my concerns about this mysterious creature.

Last day of February, and no doubt things are beginning to melt everywhere.

Night of the Bears 

While we sleep this wintry night away, you’re saving bears

dreaming metal islands for an ocean with no ice:

floating metal platforms for polar bears to walk on

artificial stepping stones so they won’t have to drown.

I see water dense with bears, nose to tip to nose,

like pieces in some Escher tessellation

swarming in a sea gone soupy warm.

Their whitish fur, slicked back so smooth,

makes them look like fish, thick as schools of salmon

used to be, spawning in some woodland stream, dense

so we might walk, carefully, on tiptoe cross their backs.