2018: 'Year of the Birds'; 2019: 'Year of the Bear'?

I’ve always maintained that the importance of birds in our lives and the roles they play in the web of life cannot be over-stressed — and with the last couple of years nearly “birdless” in comparison with a few years past, this season’s small but appreciated “rebound” — at least at my place, is a delight.

Several chickadee and buddy companion nuthatch couples are now visiting the feeders along with some newbies and a few old-timers. Happily, the chickadees and nuthatches seem to have recouped some of their numbers and though not in great strides, are making their presence known at my feeders and joy of joys, my ”jungle” hosts two pairs of Evening Grosbeaks as well as two couples of their handsome cousins — black-headed Grosbeaks. Also, I have resident Towhees , dozens of darling tiny Pine siskins, and two pairs of gorgeous Stellars jays. The “old-timers” are a few Rosy and Cassin’s finches and a “suspected” (meaning I’m not sure) Hoary redpoll. All of these used to be common here, but quit coming several years ago. I say “Welcome back!”

The annual contingent of robins, several sparrows and Hairy and Downy woodpecker pairs — along with a huge flashy and noisy Pileated woodpecker — grace the birdbaths, seed and suet feeders and grounds in general for my daily front deck-sitting delight. Too, that is where the nectar feeders hang for the plethora of hummingbirds that come faithfully each season to boldly feed. I say “boldly” since they know me and have no fear — buzzing right up to my face often as if to say, “Thanks!” But do you think I can get a picture of the little rascals?

All of this creates an idyllic picture, I’m sure — and it is, except for my personal failing of a passionate love for the resident Western Red tree squirrels (Pine-jimmies). The adorable little thieves and now, their equally adorable babies — ransack the sunflower seed feeders, getting right in and chasing off birds while filling their cheeks with seeds. Then, off they go to their hideouts, where they store their trove for later eating — or winter, maybe. Anyhow, it’s a moot problem and some of the birds are “making do” by jumping into the baskets with the squirrel, taking a seed and flying off with it. Often, the nuthatches and/or chickadees work in tandem — one to distract the “jimmy” while the other grabs a seed. As I say, great porch-sitting adventures in constant array!

All good things seem to end, somehow — or at least take a break — and about three weeks ago that’s what happened here. About 3 a.m., I was awakened by (1) a loud, sharp bark from Wiley (the big Golden Retriever I was “baby-sitting” for the night) and (2) my three cats tearing up the stairs in a great stumble of racing paws. Wiley was frantic to get out the door and I let him go; he promptly took off down the driveway and I, seeing nothing in the pitch-black distance, looked around my porch-light lit deck. The storage/greenhouse on the end was missing the big 50-pound bag of unopened sunflower seeds I had just bought that day. I thought (unrealistically) that someone had stolen the bag — and whistled Wiley back. He returned, all huffy and puffy importance for chasing off the “thief” — and we all returned to bed. At 6 a.m., I arose, looked out the door, and there, halfway down the driveway, lay the bag of seeds! I went out barefoot in my pajamas to check it and there were two long, deep claw slits along the front. I realized it had been a bear — and a hefty one, to carry a 50-pound bag — and was grateful that Wiley was there to chase it off. He was going “home” that day, so around 7:30 p.m., I dragged the bag inside, thinking that if ‘Bruin” returned, he/she would be thwarted.

Oh Valle, you dummy!

About midnight, the cats again tore upstairs and I heard a big roar on the front porch (which is about 5 feet from my sofa-bed). I pulled the door-window curtain back just in time to see a big, broad brown, shaggy back walk by on the deck and over the edge of the porch. Having no real fear of bears, I opened the door and peeked directly around the corner to the right where stood a really good-sized bear. In my best bear-threatening voice I yelled “Get outta’ here!” He not only didn’t budge, he looked me in the eye. This was no shy black — and with its narrow-eyed, dish-faced stare, I realized it must be a young grizzly and that I might actually be in a bit of danger. I stepped back very quickly into the door, shut and double-locked it and called 911. It took the crew about 20 minutes to get there, and meanwhile the bear figuring I had the bag of seed inside, stood up and pushed on the door to come in and get it. Then, he (thankfully) discovered the feeding baskets of sunflower seeds hanging overhead. He tore a couple of them down along with nectar feeders, and pretty much devastated things on the deck. When the “bear truck” arrived — ablaze with about 20 spotlights and looking like the Queen Mary entering my driveway — the bear took off and fortunately for my credibility, was seen by the crew.

As for me? That 20-minute wait, with the bear right at the door, turned me into a quivering mass of jelly and I admit to being utterly terrified for probably the first time in my long life! I’ve hunted before — for food, without malice — once looked a (gorgeous) cougar right in the eye and actually communed with it — and never feared any of Nature’s creatures, ever. But you can bet I feared this sucker — his mindless determination to acquire food plus his utter non-fear of me — did the trick.

The story hasn’t ended. The bear returned twice — accompanied by my 911 call — and even though I now take absolutely everything inside, seeds, hummer feeders, etc., the Fish and Game representative told me that there is currently a real bear problem locally, with many bear depredations reported. He said once a bear knows something edible was there it will always return because they can still smell it. And of course the ground around the deck is littered with spilled/strewn seeds. So, since I have no intention to stop feeding my dependent friends, I’ll cope with it. Son Keith of Liberty Lake gave me some heavy-duty bear spray and if I can find a way to squirt it in Big Brownie’s face, I’ll do it. Meanwhile, keep your eyes open. Good luck!

Valle Novak writes the Country Chef and Weekend Gardener columns for the Daily Bee. She can be reached at bcdailybee@bonnercountydailybee.com or by phone at 208-265-4688.