I am backtracking a bit telling this story, but I missed most of July and this story keeps coming up. So let me share it with you. The four of us enjoyed a few days at the cabin before moving to MI. The cabin is undergoing an addition, so it was a construction zone and made for a different kind of cabin experience than what is typical. Brad was eager to help his dad and brother, Greg, and spent most of the time on the roof of the addition. Instead of peaceful breezes and the hummingbird sounds the air was filled with hammering (one of Peter's new favorite words) and the roar of the generator.
The first morning we were there the guys got to work as soon as breakfast devotions were finished. Cora, Peter and I decided to get some exercise and adventure in while the morning was still cool so we headed up the mountain. Cora hiked the whole way up all by herself, to the spring. We stopped often admiring a few wildflowers and sparkly stones. Cora has taken to picking flowers for me and I adorn myself with her show of love. Peter walked and rode on my back intermittently. Once we made it to the spring we decided that was far enough and started heading back down. As we turned around, I got that creepy "someone in watching you through the woods" kind of feeling that, I'm told, even the truest of outdoorsmen get at times. I found myself a large "walking stick" since I had no other form of self-defense. I silently convinced myself that it was just my imagination and that no one has seen anything like a bear for 6 years, since Brad and I had our friendly encounter with Mr. Curious Black Bear. I continued to reason that we had been making so much noise that anything larger than a squirrel would be far away from us. But just to be sure I decided we should sing a hiking song...The only thing I could come up with was "The Ants go Marching". Apparently I was not feeling large in stature. As we hiked down, singing I occasionally whacked nearby trees with my stick. Peter thought that was fun so he picked up a stick and started hitting trees, too.
As we came out of the woods back onto the road we saw Mom coming up to join us. I then realized we'd been gone quite a long time and that even with all of our singing and echo-making, no one down at the cabin could hear our noise over their own. I felt comforted that another adult (although similarly as defenseless as myself) had joined us, and we were headed back to the company of the men so I shook off the creeps.
That evening we had dinner guests. I can't help but share that one was a high school teacher turned stay at home mom! Oh, and the other was just a retired astronaut. (I kid: it was intriguing to meet a man who's been in space and to hear what it was like, and what it was like for his wife.) That night at dinner we all shared our wildlife encounter stories. Right afterwards when I brought Cora out to the outhouse my hackles rose again. Something shook the bushes and I tried not to startle Cora. She's already added bears to the list of things we pray for safety from each night. So I put on my "everything's fine and I'm very confident" face and told her there was a squirrel in the bushes. We made some noise and my keen eyes couldn't see anything bigger than a squirrel, so we braved it to the outhouse and back.
Morning #2: We wanted to get some more adventure time in before the day got too hot and this time Mom said she'd take us on the road she likes to walk, which was down the hill this time. I agreed that this would be great so we could see some different sights and find new things! Brad, Greg and Dad were already hard at work, the roof was almost done. So off we went, the four of us - Mom and I, Cora and Peter - totally unprepared for adventure. We should know better, given both of our histories with adventure at the cabin. I think we were prepared against sunburn and that was about it! We started off down the road from the cabin. Cora likes to be the leader so she was well in front of us with her little walking stick. Peter trotted on his own between Mom and I.
Well, wouldn't you know, about 100 feet out the door, before I even had a chance to get the creeps this time, out from the bushes on the North side of the road saunters a black bear. These are the thoughts that crossed my mind in a millisecond: "he doesn't even appear to have noticed us even though we're SO CLOSE!", "how did they get those big yellow tags in his ears and why are they there? is he dangerous?", and "Cora hasn't noticed the bear yet even though it's about 20 feet away and just about to cross the road right in front of her!!!!" At this point I yelled to her, "Cora, STOP, COME HERE, THERE'S A BEAR!" She turned and ran to me like she thought the bear was chasing her, I scooped up Peter and grabbed Cora's hand and we ran back to the cabin. Mom was yelling to the Brad and Greg on the roof, "There's a bear!!" and it took them a few times to understand and then believe us. They launched off the roof - I think partly jealous and partly alarmed - and asked for details. We stood on the deck, feeling safe on our turf, and pointed to where we first saw him and the direction he was headed. Apparently we hadn't scared him off. He had continued his leisurely jaunt across the road into the thick woods on the Southern hillside. The men took off to catch a better look at him, to see him with their own two eyes and Mom and I stayed in our safe zone on the deck and calmed down the kids. Both were crying and upset! Poor kids! Cora claimed she was crying because she "didn't see the bear". I'm still not sure if that means she was so alarmed that a bear could be that close without her noticing, or that she was disappointed to have not gotten to see it with her own to eyes since she was running away. (I'm so thankful she didn't stop and and look for it or say, "What?" It was one of those times when she needed to obey instantly, the way you always hope your children will.)
Once Cora calmed down I carried her down the road a bit, following Brad. We had seen the bear climb up through the trees and could see him sitting there looking at us, sniffing the air. We were still only a few steps from the cabin deck but could watch him quite nicely. He did not seem at all disturbed that we were there and after a while he got up and walked away, over the hill to the next canyon. That was all we saw of him.
Fast forward 3 weeks: Peter doesn't have very many words in his almost 2 year old vocabulary, but one of his favorite things to say is, "Stop, Bear!" It doesn't come out very clearly so strangers just think he's yelling at them. But when it's appropriate we share our new "bear story" with friends and Peter's face glows with pride and amazement. He must have gotten a good look at that black bear and has it fixed in his memory! He also likes to play bear (or some sort of scary creature). The game goes like this: he roars at us, we act terrified, then he laughs. Repeat. Yesterday, he was playing that lovely game with Cora and I. This time Cora changed the rules. When he roared, she yelled "BEAR!" and we ran away, thinking Peter would laugh like usual and chase us. Wrong! He started crying! He froze right where he was and cried. At first I was confused because we were playing one of his favorite games and he also loves to play chase so we had combined two of his favorite things - what could he not like about that? When it registered that he was crying his scared cry and not his mad cry I went back to him and hugged him and asked him if he was scarred. He nodded yes and said "Bear". I think he thought we were running away from a real bear and had left him behind!
So, while we continue to reassure both kids that there are not bears wandering in the heavy woods that surround our new home (although we're not sure what might be), and we try to remind them that wild animals really are scared of us and want to leave us alone (and we should leave them alone, too), I'm going to be more prepared next time I take my kids on "an adventure" just in case we're further than 100 feet away from the cabin, or another place I feel protected.
