This mother of two was caught on camera visiting the neighbor's Wildlife Buffet (read: dumpster) for a late lunch this afternoon. I was not able to get a photo of the cubs. It was very surprising and highly unusual to catch these fellas in town mid-day. They usually wait until the cover of darkness. I hope this behavior is not related to a scarcity of available food in the wild or to a loss of caution on the part of this bear with respect to humans. She was not sporting any ear tags, which are indicative of a trapped and relocated bear.

In spite of the city having a leash law, there are a number of neighborhood dogs running free during much of the day. There would seem to be the potential for a violent encounter with the likelihood of a chance meeting.

For now, I will exercise a degree of caution as I head out the door or walk around a corner of the house.

After a couple of days of more seasonal temperatures and 2 or more inches of snow earlier this week, the abnormal normal of this spring has returned with overnight low temperatures above freezing and rain to melt the last remaining bits of snow from Sunday and Monday. It is not clear if the first growth of the mystery lilies, Asian lilies, irises, or hostas has been damaged by this short stretch of wintry weather. The bleeding heart gave me the most concern, but it too appears to have weathered the storm.

Even though it was raining at the time of my usual morning walk, I felt that was an inadequate reason to cancel. Monday morning's walk took place in bitter cold and a stiff wind. The conditions yesterday morning weren't much better, so I let myself be convinced to stay inside. This morning there was enough remorse left over from yesterday's decision to skip the walk to motivate me to head out in light rain. Conditions proved to be comfortable with temperatures in the mid-40's. In addition to the motivation to expiate yesterday's guilt, a rain jacket and waterproof footwear were also very helpful.

Recently, I find myself more and more frequently facing the dilemma of the selection a topic for a blog entry and the manner in which I will treat that topic. Another way of saying that would be: I am unsure just how far to open that inside door. I organized this blog so that it would be shrouded in a certain degree of anonymity, but it is far from totally anonymous. My original intent may have been to use the blog as something akin to a personal journal. Now that I am doing it, I am not so sure that objective is being met and that desire or need is being fulfilled. Maybe I should write fiction so that I could hide behind my characters and excuse intimate disclosures and ruminations as "just that character." I have tried journaling and found it lacking. In retrospect, I may have been too undisciplined in my method.

I find myself thinking just how transient our reality is along with our individual experience of that reality and our individual interpretation of that reality/experience. It is like a moving target, a moving platform for the shooter, and a strobe light as the only illumination. If there is to be some sense of consistency achieved in all this, it is something that I have to bring to the experience; I cannot expect to find it in the experience external from myself. Once again, I am reminded that living well takes genuine effort.

Happy Easter to all my readers.

Please celebrate the season in a way that is meaningful to you so that you meaningfully experience your transcendent humanity and the transcendent humanity that we all have in common. The effort will be appreciated.

If someone is looking for an intellectual work-out, you may find the following blog helpful:
http://blog.kennypearce.net/ 

Even though I find that much of it reads like a foreign language (Read: Beyond my comprehension.), I find gems and incendiary sparks that get me to thinking.

The bears are out and about town.

A few days ago a bruin came through during the night and broke up the bird feeder which I was using for sunflower meats. The process of elimination leads me to conclusion that the culprit was a bear. Several days previously I had removed the suet feeder figuring that was more vulnerable to such a beast. This feeder was a homemade one that required some repair and modification a few years back, when it was raided by a bear. I am not sure if I will repair it or replace it this time around. I have now replaced the bird feeder with the birdbath. I am no longer serving lunch; I am providing a drinking and bathing establishment. Some years ago, I had to fashion a replacement base for the birdbath, after it was tipped and the original base damaged beyond repair. The process of elimination didn't help me identify the culprit on that occasion. It may have been a bear or a large dog or a neighbor taking a short cut through the yard in the dark.

This morning as I was finishing up by morning walk, I caught sight of a large black bear exiting some one's lawn and heading into the woods. It was on the edge of town and along a state highway. I was surprised to see a bear in this area at 7:30AM. Past experience has shown that bears will leave town as dawn breaks.

I would like to put out a thistle feeder for finches, but I am not sure how to mount it to eliminate the bear problem. Experience has shown that bear will tackle thistle feeders. The evidence on that occasion was bite marks and a smashed feeder. Hummingbird feeders are also a thing of the past. Garbage cans are kept in a storage shed. To date, there has been no evidence of an attempted breaking and entering.

Thirty-five days and counting.

One advantage to living in the retired state is fewer trips to the service station to fill up the vehicles. I last did a fill-up for the truck on March 2nd; as of this date, there remains a little more than a quarter tank. When working, a typical month accounted for three trips to the service station. (It isn't simply due to greater use of our second vehicle either.)   I credit it to my reliance on good old fashioned shoe leather for most trips to the post office, the library, and meeting a friend for breakfast. It feels good to make those round trips the old fashioned way and to take note of the savings, when expenses are totalled up at month's end. I also take satisfaction in knowing that I am contributing just a little bit less to the profits of the oil companies.

I stumbled upon a blog yesterday, that I intend to follow: "The Contrary Farmer" by Gene Logsdon. In past times, I have read some his traditionally published works, which I also stumbled upon but that was during my treks through the stacks of the local library. There were two recent entries, the titles of which caught my eye. I was not disappointed. One was a lighter treatment of a subject, and the other was a much more intimate treatment of its subject. The first is titled "Talking to Animals," and the second is "Secret Crying Places." (Okay. I will readily admit that the latter is very much a guy thing.) The jewel in the piece is the connection that Gene makes between tears of sadness and tears of joy. It may well be true that our ability to experience emotional highs is in direct proportion to our ability to experience the lowest lows. In that context, sadness and grief are but small prices to pay for the ability to experience the other end of the emotional spectrum. It is as if we have to run off the road a little every now and again, off on the gravel shoulder, or even down in the ditch, in order to fully appreciate just how great the ride is when we are on the roadway and especially in the passing lane.

Gene's blog called to mind the process that is currently underway by the American Psychiatric Association to update its diagnostic manual. On the topic of grief, the proposed revision has been criticised for pathologizing normal sadness and grief by permitting a diagnosis of Major Depressive Espisode as soon as two weeks after the death of an important individual in one's life.  At that point, the experience apparently becomes a diagnosable disorder, which merits treatment and within the current context that would most likely entail pharmacological treatment. Another article spoke of the two month limit that employers can "legitimately" establish for bereavement. After that date, the employee may be subject to disciplinary action, if the "problem" persists.

Having lived my life--at least that portion allocated to date--as an introspective melancholiac (I use that term in very much the same manner with which it was employed in medieval physiology.), I feel much more kinship with Mr. Logsdon's insights than I do with the machinations of the American Psychiatric Association.