I grew up in the city, I live in a city, and I’m pretty used to city life. Sirens, weekend warriors hootin’ and hollerin’ on Saturday nights, concrete, big glass buildings; I don’t even notice them much anymore. My parents have a place in the country, so I was prepared to relax and draw the tall trees, flowers dotting the lawn, creeks, and the visiting herd of deer. I was not prepared for one special visitor, though—a rather large black bear, who sauntered purposefully through the back of the yard yesterday.
The bear caused a lot of excitement in the town before he (pronoun chosen due to lack of evidence of cubs) was persuaded to return to safer forest areas by people honking their car horns. Sounds mean, but better he should be frightened of the road than end up a statistic.
Well, that was exciting! Surely the rest of the trip would just be making tough decisions, like where to nap and what to eat next…after my parents put us to work moving some furniture around. (We knew about that before we got here.)
Done with the work, we had a nice swim in the pool (bear-free), had dinner, and got ready for a restful night of sleep breathing the country air. Which…had a tinge of smoke to it.
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