Tuesday, The Day I Was Ambushed by Civil War Soldiers...

Dalton, Georgia. Tuesday morning, I unlocked the door of the archives and was startled out of my wits by an ugly, hairy, bearded guy who had taken up residence on our elegant French Provincial sofa. His friend was a cold, angry-looking blond. Although my life didn't flash before my eyes, many thoughts flashed through my brain in quick succession. My initial fear was that I was late for work and people were waiting. Before I even had time to think, "No, wait ~ I'm early," it occurred to me that the door had been locked, the alarm set. "How did they get past the dead-bolt?" I wondered frantically ~ as an even weirder thought struck me: "These guys look dead." As Huck Finn said, "It most give me the fantods."

I recovered my wits to realize that Marvin had brought over two very real-looking dummies for the upcoming Civil War display. The Civil War soldiers ~ two mannikins ~ were dressed in woolen coats and hats, 1860's fashion, which should have tipped me off at once, but I was not prepared for the sight of them, sprawled out as they were, in the parlor just inside the front door.

Since that initial reaction of mine, they've given me a turn more than once as I've walked by or glanced through the window, forgetting their presence. They look quite at odds with our frilly lace curtains. They've given some visitors to the archives a turn as well. I'll be glad when we get them into the lobby and have them displayed properly ~ though I suspect that even then, I'll be scared many more times as I stroll into the room, distracted by morning routine...

(Crown Gardens and Archives is the headquarters for Whitfield-Murray Historical Society.)

Thoughts on the Black Bear that Came to Visit...

I wasn't scared of the bear Sunday. Then, the visit was just a bizarre and exciting occurrence, a startling appearance at the window of a big, old giant teddy bear. I was secure within my home, and even those big bear claws on the window panes seemed only a novelty. I felt privileged at having witnessed it, at being honored by his visit.

Today, I have to report that a newfound fear of the black bear has crept into my consciousness. Once again, as happened at the time we found the giant claw-print, I have begun to feel... not so safe. I dread his possible return. A waving hill of tall, creamy, plush grass on the roadside reminds me of the bear's fur ~ not in color, but in its thick furriness. Will I meet the bear as I dash out to my car in the morning, forgetting to look? Will he poke his head around the corner as I take too long to unlock the door, carrying in plates of take-out?

It is disconcerting to learn that, while black bears are usually not considered to be aggressive, they are predatory. A grizzly attacks defensively, because he feels threatened. A black bear attacks because he is hungry. It will not do to lie down and play dead when a black bear attacks. You don't want to look too much like the main course!

FOR THE ORIGINAL BLACK BEAR VISITOR, SEE POST BEFORE LAST.