AdventuresInNature

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The bears are back.

They’ve been hiding deep in the recesses of Shenandoah National Park, which my property adjoins, since the first gun fired in the Blue Ridge Mountains last fall.

Bears look sort of dimwitted, but they’re smarter than they look. Obviously, they carry around a copy of that little brochure that tells when hunting seasons open and close.

No bruiser bears have shown up yet. They’ll come later. Adult bears – big, thick-shouldered, dangerous-looking bears -- get a bad case of the prowls in July and August. That’s when they enter a condition known crudely as “the rut.”

(My weird brother Tosh also used to “go off” when the moon was full. We had to tie him to the newel post to keep him home and out of conflict.)

Why bears choose to prowl, fight and make love during the hottest part of summer while wearing a heavy, black fur coat remains a mystery.

No, the two bears that I’m seeing every day are cubs about a year and a half old that have been run off by their mother. Teenage bears, in other words.

Mother wants to get pregnant again (bears only mate every other year), and a teenager peeping over the foot board cramps her style. So she runs the young bears off.

(Of course, just being a teenager -- whether bear or human -- is ample reason to be chased from polite society anywhere in the world.)

These young guys I’m watching are at an absolute loss. The world is so big, and their comprehension of it so small.

Of course, in my mountain back yard they’re no problem, and I like to watch. They’ve upended my swing set, gnawed on it a bit, and turned over all my carefully placed stones lining the walkway, looking for grubs.

Where they get into trouble is when they wander into subdivisions, even downtown areas, this time of year.

And make no mistake: Because their numbers are getting so great, a bear will visit your neighborhood in the next month or so, causing great consternation, making the local paper and possibly even the evening TV news.

Try tolerance.

Black bears –- the only bears we have in the East –- aren’t aggressive. They aren’t looking for children to eat, though they will kill a small dog quicker than you can say, “Come, Fufu.”

If you’re of an adventurous turn of mind, just walk outside, wave your arms, and shout something. Anything.

The bears will comprehend and run. They’re multi-lingual.

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