The View Through My Window

black bear — Observing My Four Legged Neighbors

My workspace window overlooks a meadow and a ravine where the animals come down from a nearby ridge to drink. Their movement often catches my attention. I am close enough to watch, yet hidden enough to not disturb.

The deer come through regularly — sometimes in herds, sometimes one or two at a time. In the spring, a spotted fawn with wobbly legs bounded away from his mother and devoured a whole patch of pansies while I was too awestruck to shoo him out of the garden. The two visited often, pruning each time the buds returned. By fall, that fawn was huskey and strong, ready for the harsh winter.

Spotted fawn standing in a garden — As if out of a scene from a fairy tale--the fawn in the pansies

fawn with two other deer — The fawn, now with a winter coat, is crossing the meadow and heading toward the ravine

In late summer, a pair of large buck came through almost daily. The right antler of one was only partially grown in. The other buck often lingered, taking an afternoon nap in the speckled shade of the aspens.

buck with partially grown in antler walking in a meadow — Notice how this buck's right antler has only partially grow in.

buck napping in the shade — His companion often spent afternoons resting in the shade.

Meanwhile, a territorial mother pine squirrel built a midden under the spruce trees and a nest inside the barbecue grill. We carefully moved the nesting materials to a nearby chair and watched the squirrel carry wads by the mouthful to a new site in a crook halfway up the spruce tree.

Mother Pine Squirrel relocating her nest — Mother pine squirrel relocating her nest

She later gifted the midden to one of her two offspring. (How did she decide which one?) The other sibling repeatedly snuck into the midden from behind the brush, snatched a pine cone from the store, and darted off. Sometimes she’d go completely unnoticed, but sometimes there’d be loud, chirping protests and a chase. The mother seemed to move to another clump of trees and let them work it out themselves.

Pine squirrel sneaking in to raid a midden — The other sibling would sneak in to raid the midden.

Pine squirrel dashing across the grass — The raids often led to angry chattering and a chase.

Pine squirrel nibbling on a pinecone — Mother squirrel let them work it out themselves.

But the bears with their inturned toes and bumbling gait are the most entertaining. There have been several. Last fall, a mother and her two cubs all scrambled into a tiny crabapple tree. The weight of the highest bear snapped a branch, and they all tumbled to the ground in a heap.

cinnamon bear cub — One of the cubs with the broken crabapple branches

“Honeybear,” was the most daring and mischievous. Honeybear was a cinnamon yearling with a light stripe across his back. He earned his name after he slipped into the neighbor’s house through an unlocked, sliding door when (ironically) they were away camping. He gobbled down fruit, coconut flour, and over a quart of honey from their kitchen cupboard before we scared him out by ringing the landline. Then he restlessly slept it off in a nearby aspen tree.

black bear climbing aspen tree — “Honeybear” climbing the tree to sleep off the honey from the neighbor’s kitchen cupboard. You can see white coconut flour stuck on his mouth.

Venturing into the mountains and woods gives me unlimited inspiration, but the view from my workspace window provides another unique vantage point. From here, I can see a narrative unfold — take in details that I might otherwise miss. Over time, I can watch the shadows grow or highlight different contours. I can watch the clouds billow up or turn from silver to peach to purple. From my window, I can observe, unnoticed, my four legged neighbors going about their daily business. These critters with all their individual personalities and antics frequently wander (or race) through my art and writing. My pictures and words reflect the world I see — moments in time, an emotion, a splash of color or a graceful line — the small details that capture my attention and my imagination. I invite you to share the view.