Birdseed and Bear's Breath

Something from the tackle box:   

       You created the moon, O Lord, to tell us the seasons.  The sun knows when to set, and you made the darkness, so the animals in the forest could come out at night.  Lions roar as they hunt for the food you provide.  But when morning comes, they return to their dens, then we go out to work until the end of day.

       O Lord, by your wisdom you made so many things; the whole earth is covered with your living creatures.  But what about the ocean so big and wide?  It is alive with creatures, large and small.  And there are ships, as well as Leviathan, the monster you created to splash in the sea.

       All of these depend on you to provide them with food, and you feed each one with your own hand, until they are full.  But when you turn away, they are terrified; when you end their life, they die and rot.  You created all of them by your Spirit, and you give new life to the earth.      (Psalm 104:19-30 CEV)

       Up on Long Lake this past summer we’ve had a problem with bears. Some folks think that you have to go to the Upper Peninsula to see a Michigan black bear, but the U.P. does not have a monopoly on that particular critter. Even though we are in the troll populated part of the state (everything below the bridge) we are just barely so, and the tip top part of the mitten shaped portion of Michigan has a decent sized wild bear population too. 

       This summer the folks on the south shore of Long Lake in Cheboygan County, where my place is, have had an issue.  We’ve got a big old sow and her large yearling cub (bear cubs stay with mama bear two years before heading out on their own) that have made a decision that lake front bird feeders will be their main source of nourishment. 

       This hasn’t been an issue around here for quite some time.  Back when I was a kid, when my Grandpa owned the place, you had to be more careful.  There weren’t all that many places on the lake back then, way more woods than cottages, and there was no weekly garbage pick-up.  When you cleaned your fish you didn’t just toss the offal off into the nearby trees.  If you did, you’d soon have a bear problem, the same with table scraps or any other garbage.  We had a local dump a couple of miles down a dirt road from any dwellings, and that’s where everyone took their garbage and left it.  That’s where the bears would come and eat it.  You could watch them there in the evenings if you liked. 

       But that was a long time ago.  The number of homes and cottages has grown from a couple dozen to well over a hundred, the roads are paved all the way around the lake, and every Thursday morning the sanitation truck will come and pick up your garbage right at the end of your driveway just like you were living within the city of Cheboygan ten miles away. 

       Everyone knows you still have to wait until morning to put your garbage out and not the night before.  The bears are still around and will get into it under cover of darkness if given the chance.  But, if everyone follows the rules, there is no more local supply of fish guts and leftover pizza from The Pines Bar and Grill for the bears to subsist on in our neighborhood.  Nope, the local bear population has had to go back to foraging for wild nuts and berries to live on for several decades now, and they pretty much have done just that, staying away from the people on the lake for the most part. 

Mom & Dad watch birds at the cottage

       Unfortunately, not having to be so careful about bears any longer is at the root of this past summer’s issue.  Let’s face it; three quarters of the people who have a place on the lake now are relative newcomers.  They don’t even remember the days when you did have to be more careful of the local bears.  Aside from following the official instructions not to put their garbage out the night before, they tend to live their lives for the summer days they spend up here just as if they were still at their more urban and non bear populated homes further to the south, - myself and my parents included!

Rose Breasted Gross Beak at a feeder

       People in Michigan love their birds!  And we have a very wide and beautiful variety that will come to a bird feeder almost anywhere in the state, town or country.  Lots and lots and lots of people feed the birds around their homes, including my mom and dad.  To be frank, I like to watch the birds around the feeders at the cottage myself, especially the rose breasted gross beaks.  What a beautiful songbird.  My dad is very generous with the seed, as are many of the folks along the lakeshore, and the result is that we have enjoyed a delightful proliferation of wild birds, along with the ubiquitous squirrels and chipmunks, for many years now. – And this year – a couple of bears to boot!

       They come at night and they smash the birdfeeders up to get the seed.  My dad’s birdfeeder was just a big open pan on top of a metal pole, so they didn’t have to bust it up, just bend the metal pole over and lick it clean – which is what they’ve been doing. 

Grandson Nolan doesn't worry about bears

       Informal emergency sessions of the Long Lake Association (neighbors meeting and talking at the end of their driveways) have resulted in a mandate that the feeding of birds around the lake must cease, and cease for a long time, as bears will remember and continue to check out an old food source for up to seven years before giving up on it for good.  (sigh)  Such is the price one pays for developing a lake that was once mostly fishing camps and old-folk’s cabins into a summer home site for prosperous urban families with young children who have the summer off from school.  Oh well, - I guess we can’t let the bears eat the neighborhood kids.  – And that brings me to a story from my own childhood.

       My dad grew up on a farm in the eastern Upper Peninsula, one of the twelve children of Eino and Goldie Jarvie.  That’s a big family.  And when you factor in Grandpa Eino’s siblings, and all of their kids and grandkids, you can find Jarvies almost everywhere in the U.P.  In 1992 we had a big extended family reunion and had to rent the Chippewa County fairgrounds to hold it on.    

       Anyway, when I was a kid growing up in the troll lands, one of the highlights of every summer was the weeklong trip to the U.P. to see Grandpa, Grandma and a bunch of my aunts, uncles and cousins.  Grandpa and Grandma lived in a small house on the farm my dad grew up on.  The old farmhouse next door was where my uncle Delbert, aunt Jean and three of my cousins lived.  A mile to the south, in the woods, was uncle Art, aunt Jerri and four more cousins.  A mile to the west of the farm was uncle Darrel, aunt Darlene and four more cousins.  And while we were up there others might show up from further off just to see us.  It was a lot of kids to have fun with, - and we did. 

       One of my favorite places up there was my uncle Art’s place in the woods, about a mile south of the old farm.  If you walked down there from the farm the first half mile was dirt road through pastures and hay fields, the second half mile was dirt road through dense woods, - and there were bears in those woods. 

       We knew there were bears in those woods because uncle Art used to leave food out for them in his back yard, and if you were staying the night down at his place you could watch them eat by moonlight from the windows on the back of the house.  Uncle Art liked the bears – couldn’t understand why anyone would want to hunt one.  He said they never bothered anyone in the daytime and if you were inside after dark, like you were supposed to be, you’d never have a problem with them.  I guess it must be so, as all four of his kids grew up in that house without ever getting eaten by a bear, but when I was a kid I wasn’t quite so confident about that – even in the daytime. 

       I forget how old I was the day I found out what it feels like to almost get eaten by a bear, but I certainly wasn’t a teenager yet.  Two of my cousins and I had decided to walk from the farm down to the old hunting cabin the family owned. (I have forgotten which two cousins it was, but if either one of them remembers this incident I would appreciate them reminding me)  To get to the cabin you had to walk the mile south to uncle Art’s place in the woods, then turn left where the road turned at his place and walk another quarter mile or so east, still in the woods.  It would be a nice early-morning jaunt, almost an adventure. 

       After the first half-mile, as we got near the end of the farm land where the woods took over to the south, someone suggested that there was a deer path that lead from the pasture on our left directly through the woods to the road right near the cabin.  If we climbed the gate to the pasture and walked just a hundred yards or so along the edge of the woods that bordered the pasture we could pick up the trail and take a more direct and adventurous route to our destination.  I didn’t think it sounded like that good of an idea (I was a bit of a chicken as a kid) but I climbed over the fence to follow my two cousins rather then take the road through the woods by myself.

       People who live in the country know that the edge of a wood that borders an open field can get almost impenetrably thick with foliage.  Underbrush and small trees take advantage of the clearing to soak up the sunlight and often form a wall of leaves that you can’t even see into, let alone through.  Such was the case along the south border of this pasture.  It looked ominous to me, but my cousins assured me they knew where the deer path broke through the fence, and so we walked towards that spot.

       We had covered most of the hundred yards through that pasture along the edge of the woods until even I could see where the deer trail came through, just ahead of us.  We smiled and picked up our pace – until we saw the underbrush that was just this side of the opening start to shake violently!

       “BEAR!” one of my cousins yelled.  All three of us turned tail and ran as fast as we could towards that fence gate we had climbed over and the road back to the farm.    

       No one can outrun a bear!  No one!  But even at that young age I knew that if you were in a group being chased by a bear, you don’t have to outrun the bear, you simply have to outrun at least one other person in the group. 

       DANG it!  Why did I have to be born so SLOW!  Both of my cousins were up and over that fence while I was still twenty yards away!  I could hear that bear coming up behind me on a run!  It sounded like a HUGE one!

       I gave it all I had.  When I was just a few feet away from the fence I could actually feel that bear’s breath on the back of my neck.  I started to pee my pants as I jumped and grabbed the top board of that gate with both hands at once!  As I made to swing my first leg over the top board and hurl myself into the road ahead, I actually felt that bear’s tongue lick the hair on the back of my head - as he let out a low and throaty - -

       “Mmmoooooooooo“ - - - - - - - -

       My cousins laughed way harder than I did. 

Something to take home in your creel: 

       There are peculiar dangers associated with living out close to nature, just like there are dangers associated with living in the urban jungle, or any place in between.  Let’s admit it, the whole world can be a dangerous place, no matter where you live, city, town, farm or forest.  The world is a hazardous place, and people do get hurt, - even killed.  Occasionally people get killed by tigers, sharks, elephants, rhinos, - and even bears. 

       That being said; it’s important not to get too worked up about the situation.  It’s been this way since the fall when Eve started stomping on snakes instead of having conversations with them over coffee and apple pie.  

       It’s important to remember that God’s creation was good in the beginning, - as a matter of fact, it was very good, - and for the most part it remains so!  There are dangers, but MOST of what’s out there is not against you.  Fallen world or not, most of what’s out there is actually intended for you, perfectly willing to live along with you, and be inherently on your side when it comes to all of us living out our lives on this broken old world together.

       Yes, sometimes it is just about the food.  Big fish eat little fish.  A shark will eat me just like I will eat the perch I catch on Long Lake, and perhaps he will enjoy the process just as much as I enjoy catching the perch.  This is as it should be, the way fallen creation works for the time being, and that can be a scary prospect for both people and perch it would seem.  -  So be it.

       But bears are different.  Even the wild black bears, who make pests out of themselves by raiding your bird feeder, don’t lurk around your place at night with any intention of harming you.  You are not food to a bear.  They just get scared and react poorly sometimes, - like we all do.  The only real difference between bears and people is that we’ve been given the ability to do better than simply reacting poorly when we get scared, or feel threatened, when we’ve really got no good reason to be.  We can do better.  -  And, if not us, then who?