I was weeding the backyard, trying to address all the unwelcome plants that sprouted while I was out of the country. Plants formed a small jungle from waist high to taller than me. I heard my neighbor yell from across the street, “There’s a bear next to you!” I wondered if she could be speaking to me, as I looked to my left and saw no animals, then looked to my right, and saw no animals. “By your trash cans!” Oh, they were behind me. Gulp. I slowly, slowly stood up and started backing up. I was able to make it to the first landing of the deck stairs before the bears noticed me. As I paused, the mama bear stepped towards me. I looked into her eyes, and she into mine. I didn’t say anything, but intuited towards her that she had full reign of the yard. I continued to slowly step up the stairs, wondering if bears could climb stairs, and hoping they couldn’t. I think they probably can.

As I got further and further away from her three cubs, she relaxed, and I continued to back away. Once on the deck, she seemed satisfied I wasn’t a threat. The three cubs played, tousling with each other and ducking in and out of the greenery I had planned to weed. I marveled at how stinking cute the cubs were, and how majestic the mama was. I was thankful I could observe closely, yet far away, from above on my deck.

I watched them play, then watched them burrow their way through the tall shrubs/weeds. Did they exit? Did they hunker down? I couldn’t tell for sure. I stayed on my deck for almost an hour, looking for signs of them. I finally made my way down to the backyard, simply to retrieve my garden tools.

Weeding can wait until another day.