It came very near the
end, when I heard, more than saw, bears running. I would say they were grunting
or even growling, but it was more than that. They were actually snarling, and
running, seemingly running mad. I could not so much see them, because there was
a dip in the terrain where they were from where I was. Being nervous, I just
instinctively went to the nearest boulder and crouched down, hoping the moment
would pass. But they started running the opposite way a few moments later.
I had glimpsed them the first time when they were running
away, and caught a better glimpse of at least two of them when they were
running the complete opposite way. It was mostly a blur, but they were
definitely bears – probably the same ones that I saw in previous months.
This marked the first time in quite a few months that I saw any bears. I think it must have been May, or maybe early June, when I last saw one. Of course, in between that time, I did see a moose in Maine, something that I wrote about somewhere on this blog. It was huge, enormous, as big as a horse, and that without it's antenna. Never had seen one before, and always had wanted to, so it felt like an enormous privilege to have finally seen one. But the absence of any bear viewings was starting to make me puzzled a bit. Wish it had been a calmer viewing, and not one that seemed to frighten all parties involved. But still, it was a thrill, and I still maintain that it was a privilege to see, to boot!
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