Last night the sow and cubs were back in the mountain ash trees. Chip shined the flashlight out the bedroom window, clapped and told them to “git.” The dogs growled and barked (from safe inside the house) and the bears loped off and we sort of fell back asleep. At 5:30 I stepped out in the yard with my coffee, clapping and saying hello to … whatever. Hearing and seeing nothing unusual, I let the dogs join me. All three charged the wreck of the tree, barking. The smell of bears does that to them. It looked like a tornado struck one tree in the yard. Nothing else was amiss. There was a big pile of new bear poop though. A right mess. I have been told that bears don’t eat mountain ash berries. I have believed that because it has been true for my forty years in Alaska, and for twenty-five years in my yard. We planted an avenue of mountain ash trees on the new school grounds.
An hour later, before I left for the pool, I took a longer walk around and saw more signs of the night time bear party and let the dogs join me. Chip came out in his running shorts and was impressed by the damage. I said, well, at least the bears are long gone.
You know what they say?
Suddenly the sow and cubs trotted past us, the dogs went nuts , I ran to the porch with Jeff , Chip chased down the other two, sliding in the wet grass and gravel his crocs. She didn’t charge at wiggy Trixie, or good old Pearl ( who is now almost 11) but she didn’t bolt too quickly either. The bear family strolled north down the beach. Thankfully the dogs did not pursue beyond our place.
My heart hammered.
It is hard to admit that what you think you know is not correct, but what is the cost of not changing your mind in the face of overwhelming evidence? I really like those trees.
I am also always on the lookout for that tap on the shoulder from God, as my old long-gone friend Father Blaney used to remind me to notice, so I know it is not a coincidence that just yesterday I was talking to a writer friend about how so many things we thought we knew, things we learned in school, stories we loved, were and are just not true. The Pilgrims and the Indians were actually not friends. We agreed that we must be open to re-learn so-called truths daily.
Which brings me back to the two large mountain ash trees I think of as mine. I love them for the white flowers in the spring, red berries and orange leaves in the fall, and because they don’t grow so big the way cottonwoods and spruce trees do. These mountain ash trees are the perfect size to give real shade for babies, dogs and grandmothers. For children to swing from the branches. Better yet, unlike the cherry or apple trees, bears stay away from them.
Everyone knows that! Don’t they?
The first time the branches were broken, I assumed the bears mistook the bright red berries for cherries or cranberries and tasted them but didn’t like them. When I found messy poop in the grass I figured, as I had also been taught, that the berries were toxic to bears and gave them a tummyache. Three strikes and I am out of excuses. I looked up these questions and a biologist confirmed that black bears do eat mountain ash berries, and that in Sitka, brown bears eat “berries, branches and foliage” of wild mountain ashes. Sitka is not that far.
I can put an electric fence around the whole perimeter of the yard, but that’s a lot of fencing, and what if the kids or dogs get shocked accidentally? Besides, I have enough trouble with garden hose management and the electric fence around the relatively small chicken coop (it works ! The bears have not been tempted.)
I could cut them down.
I could.
I could also take the berries off. Pick them, like cherries. Early winter won’t be the same without their red and white show on the first snowfall. I think that’s when I love them best. When the wax wings descend and eat them all a few days later, it is magic.
What would you do?
After filing a personal environmental impact statement, and with apologies to the birds, I am clipping the berries all off and hauling them away. It’s not a long term solution, but change is hard.
Bears are remarkably intelligent. That much remains true. Perhaps the sow will be grateful that I have removed the bright temptation from her rowdy cubs. There are many wild ash trees (and seedlings) all over the Chilkat River shoreline– all over the valley. If they need them to fatten up for winter, there are plenty more.
