I sighted two bears on the same day last Thursday. Of all places, the first was in front of Walmart in the morning. A little tan bear darted and dodged around near the rack of shopping carts outside. It looked confused and hemmed in inside Central Park Drive’s mini concrete jungle, as onlookers snapped photos and edged closer, rattling the bear even more. One guy wisecracked, “Everybody shops at Walmart.” The bear just wanted out. I lost sight after it beat feet toward the Laundromat.

At home in the afternoon, a somewhat bigger, but hardly huge, dark brown bear cruised around the corner of our house, jumped up on a bench and stood spread eagle pressed against the living room window, as I nervously watched, inches away on the other side of the pane. Thankfully, the bear wasn’t heavy enough to break the window. His mother likely would have. It looked like a bear rug hanging there, except it wasn’t. After some moments, the bear backed down and sauntered into the woods, sniffing everything in sight.

Such is coexistence with wild animals around here. There was something pathetic about the little bear all disoriented in a shopping center, even if I wouldn’t want to see it go ballistic. It probably got back to the woods unscathed.

Luckily, it was all’s well that ends well with the bear at our window too. So long as nobody gets hurt, meeting wild animals is as magical as a fairy tale. That living bear rug might as well have been extending a bear hug.

Still, given how present wild spaces are around here, both encounters made me feel like the intruder, trespassing on their turf. It was unpleasant seeing the little tan bear acting trapped and agitated.

All the same, thank goodness for strong windows.

Elliot Silberberg
Steamboat Springs