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A Rumor of Bears

The other morning while G was walking Boomer, a neighbor stopped to tell her that she had seen bears up behind the cemetery. “Yeah,” she said, “just so you know, the bears are up. It’s time to take the feeders in at night.”

So for the last 2 nights we have been taking the feeder in. Not the one down on the patio, just the one on the porch, because a few years ago we were awakened in the night by the dog going crazy, only to put on the light to see a big black bear destroying our feeder right outside our French doors.

It is hard to believe the bears are up. It is still below zero most nights. If I were a bear, I would definitely not be up. If I were a bear I would be up in my cozy lair with my new Seth Godin book, and my space heater, dressed in my pajamas and my hoodie, sipping something hot.

I would definitely not be out raiding bird feeders. No sir. Not yet. It’s definitely not safe to come out yet, bears.



I’m a small town yoga teacher who says motherfucker a lot. I hate anything woo. I’m into neuroscience. And facts. I’ll lead the chanting of “om” sometimes, but it makes me feel awkward. I want to access flow states. As far as yoga helps me do that, I’m into it. Dopamine is my fave neurotransmitter. Don’t tell anyone I told you this.

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