Bears Bite

A short while ago, around the end of March, I think, a fellow on the radio said that a bear sighting in the Banff area was the first sign that spring had arrived. He could be right – bears wouldn’t leave their cozy caves if it was still winter – would they? I’d rather think of robins and flocks of squawking geese heading north as spring’s harbingers but that’s only because they wouldn’t want to eat me.

This fellow also said that he’d never seen a bear in real life and that he wasn’t much of an outdoorsy type so he doubted that a face-to-face with a bovine (his word) was in his future. And that was fine with him. In fact, if by some fluke he was out in the woods and heard rustling in the trees he wouldn’t care if it was a bear, a mountain lion or even a squirrel, he was out of there. And oh yes, he added – I hope his friends were listening – that on the few occasions that he was out hiking he always made sure that at least one person was slower than him. . . . contd.

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