la rutina diaria: Beasts

Mas osos. Siempre mas osos! But that's what it's all about, isn't it? At least for the next month it will be. I guess it could be analagous to Stockholm Syndrome, in which the kidnapped eventually begins to sympathize with the kidnappers. Actually, that's a lousy reference, and there's really not a whole lot of relevance in regard to living on an island with hundreds of large, slow moving beasts with an omnivore's appetite. Especially when I feel lucky to live in such a place... I will, however, continue my defense of taking so many photos of the same subjects with a more reasonable explanation: they're photogenic. When you have a camera within reach and a heavyset, charismatic opportunitist like a brown bear crawling around nearby, it's difficult not to pick up the camera and start firing away. And besides, who doesn't like a good bear photo?

As I told Tammy on the phone, though, I do purposefully leave my camera at camp every now and then to force myself to observe bears via my eyeballs rather than an eyepiece on my camera. It's hard to describe what it's like to watch three or four wild bears slowly move up and down the creek catching wild salmon in unpolluted waters for several hours. It's kind of strange, actually. You can watch a bear catch five or six fish, yet you're still waiting in heightened anticipation to see if the bear will catch a seventh. And the seventh fish is just as exciting to watch as the first. It doesn't get old.

Occasionally, bears will pass near us in transit from point A to point B. They might browse on cow parsnip along the way, forcing them to pause for a moment or two while within 30 or 40 feet of us. It might sound a bit Timothy Treadwell, but it's not. The body language of a bear is pretty discernable, particularly when you begin to understand subtle gestures and postures. (And for the ever-skeptical: we do have a few methods of defense at hand). Most bears that pass near us will show their backs to us, very clearly indicating that they do not view us as a threat. And they don't approach in an aggressive manner, as they do not associate us with any type of food or flavor (let's hope it stays that way)! Consequently, there have been a few moments in which bears will pass by, munching on sedge or cow parsnip, to the point where we can hear the bear chewing (and sometimes burping) as though it were sitting at the dinner table with us. If you don't get a sense of how close that is, take a moment to calculate the distance between you and your dog the next time you hear it eating its petchow. (Sorry mom, but that probably doesn't sit too easily with you). Just keep in mind that we aren't doing anything foolish or carefree...

Ain't nothin' better than a face full of decaying dog salmon on a hot summer's day. And a nice, cool drink to help wash things down. At this stage of the spawn, some bears will catch a fish, realize it's a male, discard it, and go back to the creek to catch another. Once they've caught a female, the bears will eat the skin and the roe (and sometimes the brain) and discard the rest. Which makes for a battle royale between eagles, ravens, and gulls for all of the discarded flesh laying around. At least nobody's going hungry..

Relieving an itch that likely looks familiar to anybody that lives with dogs... This bear played in the creek by itself for about a half hour, splashing and jumping into the water and pausing every now and again to scratch a few choice locations. And, of course, to retrieve a few salmon from the water.