Join us on our walk down our street with Daisy and Alex through the humid evening.

Our neighbors have built a beautiful stone-and-split-rail fence at the boundary of our adjoining property lines. I just love it.

We have a new bear in the neighborhood. I haven’t had the privilege of seeing him yet, but he’s been visiting neighbor Aileen for about a week now. She tells me he’s BIG. Actually, he’s not really ‘new;’ only to our yards. Luke [our resident teen who lives down the street and takes care of our cats when we’re gone and walks Kim’s dogs] has seen him before. Makes sense with all the cubs we have running around.

A few days ago around 7:15 a.m., Aileen called me to tell me he was headed our way. I held the dogs inside and ran from window to window like a little kid. Watching. Waiting. He didn’t make an appearance. Darn. Then my other neighbor, Kim, called the next night at 7:15 p.m. to tell us she just had a visit from the bear and he was now entering our front yard. We didn’t hear the phone ring, [watching TV in the other room] and didn’t pick up her message until the bear was long gone. Missed him again.

The day before yesterday the dogs were all “on alert.” It was a lovely cool day with a strong breeze blowing. I had both sliding doors in the sunroom open and they were all laying in the draft. I was sitting close by, reading. They started barking and almost went through the screen door. I told them to be quiet, but they kept on barking furiously. I got up and looked out the door. Nothing. Probably a dumb squirrel again. We went through this whole routine again about five times over the next hour or so.  Barking first in one direction, then in the other. I was getting a bit tired of this, as you can imagine, and finally I very firmly had to tell them to STOP IT! [okay, I yelled, I admit it; stomped my feet and threatened the pound] Hmpf ... fat lot of good that did, they know I’m only bluffing. A stong breeze blew through the room and they all lifted their noses and sniffed. Even the cats! It was a surreal moment. I sniffed too. I didn’t smell a thing, but they certainly did.

Okay, okay, I finally told them after another bout of barking. I will do a proper walk-around. I went into the back yard to take a look. Right. You’ve heard the expression “can’t see the forest for the trees?” Well, I can certainly relate because I can’t see the forest for the trees. It’s a jungle out there! Anyway, I walked around the back yard and to the back fence and peered into the woods. Nothing but trees.

Into the front yard. Nothing. Okay. Around to the side yard by the garage and I see something has changed.

The beautiful stone-and-split-rail fence is down. Not only down, it’s ... well ... downright split asunder!

As much as I love the fence, BRUNO,  [yes, I named him Bruno. He had to have a name; everyone else does!] however, does not. He just decided to go right through it instead of around it or over it. I immediately felt chastened, and was sorry I had yelled at the dogs. They knew. When will I learn to trust them? When they are that adamant about barking, it must be a bear. Please help me remember that in the future. He must have come through the fence the first time they nearly went through the screen since they were pointed in that direction.

When I called neighbor Aileen to tell her that her fence was broken, she said it wasn’t the first part of the fence that he’s taken down. He took down another section a few days ago and her husband wasn’t very happy with him. No, not likely. I told her about the dogs’ reaction. A few hours later she was calling me to tell me that the dog’s were spot-on: the bear had an encounter with her husband down by their chicken yard. The bear just sauntered on by, headed in our direction [again]. Rick had just arrived home from work, so we kept the dogs in and walked to the back of the yard to see if we could spot him in the woods. No such luck. If the fence incident hadn’t happened, I’d be thinking he was a figment of Aileen’s imagination at this point.

It kind of reminds me of Jaws where the music starts and builds and you know he’s coming but you can’t see him yet: 
da ... da
da ... da
da . da
da . da
dadadadadada ...

Where will he show up [or not] next?

Only one thing. You see, it’s mating season for black bears as they mate from late May through early July, with June being the prime time. Just what we need is a BIG randy bear breaking up fences and looking for love. I, for one, plan to stay out of his path. Yoo-hooooo! ... oh, Doris ... oh, Ursa ... wherefore art thou ladies?

Yesterday I bought some flowers to put into pots around the yard and for the front porch steps. Today my plan was to get them all potted.


I gathered up my gardening gloves, trusty trowel, soil, and pots and prepared to dig right in. Then I saw this:

Oh, dear. Slight snag given that I don’t ‘do’ power tools. I am not at all tool-inclined. In fact, I’m a bit dangerous in that department. My hands get clammy just thinking about it.

Caution: stand well back

Stupid, I know, and right now I can see my friend Linda out there laughing away at my trepidation over picking up a drill to make a few holes. When Rick called I told him of my dilemma. Jeez, Lynne,  just drill the hole. You can do it, he said. Could I? If he had confidence in me, well ... sure, why not. I’ll give it a go. What’s the worst thing that could happen? I drill right through my foot? Best not to think of what could go wrong.

I picked up the big orange monster and chose a drill bit. It took me a few minutes to figure out how to change out the bits, but it was simple. Look out pots, here I come!!!

In a matter of seconds the first hole was done. Huh, is that all there is to it? What was I so afraid of? Now I felt really stupid for having made such a big deal over it. I drilled the other three holes and felt disappointed that there weren’t more. I can see more power tools in my future. Just don’t get too close when I’m wielding one…

As I potted the geraniums and was taking out the plant tags, I noticed that even though they all appeared to be the same color of red, one of them was different. Take a look:

How very apropos. Just like me; another Rocky Mountain transplant. I hope this little geranium’s roots take hold and it flourishes in its new home; just like I have done over the past year.

What lies beyond yon wild rose-bedecked bower?

Yesterday after the rain stopped, I took a walk around my yard with the baby camera. You never know what you might find. Come; join me ....

At first I thought these might be fireflies, but my hopes were dashed when I discovered they were not. I love how their wings are so transparent and diaphanous that the color of the flower comes through them, infusing them with yellow.

The flowers that are now blooming in the perennial beds were more than grateful for the moisture. They seem to be drinking it in through their petals. It’s always a surprise to me to watch the different plants bloom since it’s only the second year I’ve seen their cycles. They never disappoint.

Other creatures were out as well, doing their garden clean-up jobs.

[I don’t care for caterpillars and wormy things any more than you do, fellow reader, but they demanded to be included.]

I love how colors become more saturated and drenched after a nice rain.

Hmm ... which way do you think is North by looking at this tree?

And that, fellow reader, concludes our little garden walk. See you next time!<