In the 25 years that we've lived here full time, and the ten years before that as week-enders, I have only seen bears four times: the first one many years ago, crossing the highway comfortably far ahead of our car, and two more from a distance at separate times while I was walking in the fields at the top of our street.
The fourth time was on a sunny afternoon just over a week ago. I was in the house when my cell phone rang: it was John calling from our garage. His voice at the other end was a barely audible "Keep the dogs in the house - there's a bear in our yard!"
"Smoky", as we dubbed him, had walked up our driveway. Seeing John, he showed no interest but instead headed for our apple trees, where last year's dried-up leftovers were easy pickings from off the ground. By now our dogs had seen him through the screen door - fortunately locked - and sounded the alarm, at which point Smoky ambled off, likely deciding to find a quieter dining spot somewhere down the road.
A few days later, and another encounter with nature. John came home from a trip to Home Depot and was relating how he had witnessed the car in front of him hit a bear on I-89. Fortunately, the bear bounced off and ran into the woods, and the driver of the car was safe (although the car's front grill didn't fare so well). John was far enough behind and unscathed.
While John was relating the tale, we heard a rhythmic knocking coming from our living room. I thought it was perhaps the wagging tail of one of our dogs, but remembered that the dogs were outside at the time. Nope, the noise was coming out of the wall - more specifically, from the chimney flue which is covered with a metal plate. The metal plate was shaking, and we realized that a bird had come down the chimney and was desperately trying to get out. Butterfly net in hand (I won't go into detail as to why we have one - it has to do with bats, a story for another time), John lifted the plate. I stood at the ready outside of our front door, ready to open it, listening to the sounds from within of flapping wings and John giving chase. Fortunately, we don't have all of our screens up yet, so we opened a few windows and the poor frightened thing - a woodpecker - flew away.
![]() |
| Tap-tapping on the inside of the chimney flue against this plate. The previous owners of our house had planned to put in a wood stove but never did. Feather marks slightly visible to the left. |
Ah, but there are so many more benign encounters this time of year. It always amazes me how the wildflowers know just when to show up, as if orchestrated and waiting for their queue from a conductor visible only to them.
Early on, it includes the trilliums, forget-me-nots, cowslips, and others.
Next it's the buttercups, and our little stand of Jack-in-the-pulpits.
Daisies, poppies, and lupines are just starting, and will be in full bloom for a good part of June.
There's always something new to see, but we are hopefully done with the unexpected near-misses for a while.









