I have long been interested in sacred ceremony and ritual, and first learned the pagan method of working with the four directions. Interestingly, the four directions, which often correspond to the four elements of water, earth, air, and fire, are used in many cultures the world over. The pagan rituals I learned had their roots in Celtic traditions. When I studied to become a vision fast guide, the same four elements were assigned in the same order around the wheel, but a quarter turn further along! This usage arose out of the ways of the Native American traditions of the Lakota people. However, the roots for the Lakota medicine wheel are said to arise from the ceremonies of the ancient Mayan people. It can become very confusing and perhaps impossible to determine which traditions originated where.

But what is clear is that earth-based peoples the world over have identified the usefulness of a nature-based psychology and ceremony that uses the four directions, orienting by the path of the sun across the sky from east to west and the north and south poles of the earth. Similarly, different cultures have selected similar elements as being significant to work with, including the four I’ve named. Other cultures sometimes incorporate additional elements too. For example, in both Buddhist ceremony and pagan ritual the element of ether or space is sometimes used. The Dagara people of West Central Africa use the elements of earth, water, fire, mineral, and nature (green growing things).

I’d like to tell you about a way of beginning a ceremony that I learned at the School of Lost Borders. This ceremony is used by many different Native American and First Nations peoples. It involves calling in the spirits of the seven directions (earth, sky, and centre are the other three) with the use of the smoke of the sacred sage plant.

I put an egg-sized amount of dried sage leaves into a seashell bowl, and lit different spots with a wooden match. I blew on the embers to help the leaves burn. When the sage was smoking nicely, there in my kitchen, I began by greeting the spirits of the east and asking them to be with me in the ceremony. I named a few of the qualities of the east direction, and offered the smoke of the sacred sage to the spirits. Then I repeated this for the other six directions. This act is called “calling in the directions” and it is often performed at the beginning of nature ceremony.

The second step is to smudge oneself with the smoke, for purification, and also to help shift consciousness into a ceremonial openness. If there is a group, the smudge bowl is usually passed clockwise around the circle, and each person smudges the parts of their body they feel moved to cleanse. I smudged my whole body from head to toe, using an eagle feather to brush the smoke over the front and back of my body.

Now I was ready to greet the owls. My plan was to drive to the North Shore, and run through the woods until I came to the place where the owls lived. Since I would be running, I didn’t want to bring all the gear to do the smudging in the woods. But I will tell you, this is the first time I’ve done a ceremony in stages like this. Which is a teaching about ceremony: it is creative, flexible, and responsive to circumstances! Before I left the house, I did tuck a few items for the ceremony into the pockets of my running jacket. Plus of course grabbed my driver’s license and cell phone in case of emergency! I had another ceremonial object waiting in the car, which I would carry while I ran…

I drove over to the North Shore, taking the route up Lynn Valley Road rather than Lillooet Road because I knew I wouldn’t be finished before the gates at the Lower Seymour Conservation Reserve were locked. It was getting near dusk already. I parked near the trail that crossed Lynn Creek, and ran through the woods until I reached the place where I had the two owl encounters. I had noted well the tall dead tree that the owls had perched on during both encounters, beside a small creek at a bend in the path. I’ve been on this trail hundreds of times, so it was easy to find the spot again. From their behaviour, I believe this tree marked the edge of the great grey owls’ territory. 

I have to tell you, I felt somewhat fearful that the owls would appear during the ceremony, and perhaps attack my poor head again.  I even wore my glasses while running (something I never do) so that I would be able to see them better if they appeared. So I was on the alert for their presence, and performed the ceremony rather more quickly than I might have otherwise.

I carefully climbed down the steep bank in the semi-darkness to a very wide root that was at the base of the owl-tree. Following my wise guide’s suggestion, I had brought a bouquet of flowers for the owls, which I tucked behind the root so they stood up nicely. Then I took out a small pyrex bowl and placed it on the wide root. I filled the bowl with a mixture of sunflower seeds, flax seeds, and sesame seeds. I blessed the spot with my hands using Reiki. Then I climbed back up onto the path.

Whew! No sign of the owls yet. But I was sure that they were aware of my presence. I faced downhill, into their territory, and addressed the owls quite loudly. I figured it was unlikely anyone would come along the path since it was almost dark, and the creek was bubbling away at high volume, so my voice was drowned out anyway. But I trusted that the owls would hear what I had to say.

First I thanked them for the blessing of the encounters I had with them, and told them that I had meant no harm. I expressed my appreciation for the learning I have received, and told them I heard their message that they and the other wild creatures need wild places to live in. That people are encroaching too much, and not leaving them the room they need to thrive. I expressed my intention to help protect the wild creatures and wild places. I also explained about the offerings I had brought; the red and yellow of the tulips represented the red strength of the owls and my golden joy at meeting them, combined together into a single flower. The seeds I confessed I didn’t think they would eat, although some birds do eat seeds. But perhaps their favourite prey, the vole, would eat the seeds. Thus my hope was to nourish the creatures that would feed them. I wasn’t about to bring some voles or mice as an offering! (But I didn’t say that.)

After I had said everything I could think of to the owls, I blessed the land and all the creatures who live there, again using Reiki. I bowed, rose, and then turned and headed back up the path. An interesting thing happened as I was driving home. It was now dark, and all the tail lights, head lights, and traffic lights appeared as bursts of colour. I looked in the rear-view mirror and saw that my pupils were very dilated, like the eyes of the owl! It just so happened that I had an eye exam earlier that day, and my pupils were dilated from the drops the optometrist gave me. But it seemed fitting that I was now seeing through the eyes of the owl!

The final step of the ceremony was to close it where I had opened it, in the kitchen. I held the eagle feather up, faced east, and thanked all the spirits for being with me in the ceremony. Then I scattered the ashes of the sage on the wind.

I performed this ceremony on Wednesday. Saturday morning, an email from the Green Party arrived in my inbox. It was a call for volunteers to fill three roles in the party leadership, including Publications Chair. Wow! A role I am completely qualified to perform, right now, with my existing skills and life experiences. I went to the Green Party website to have a look at their policies and documentation, and my heart sang as I reviewed their 10 Core Principles. They include sustainability, ecological wisdom, social justice, respect for diversity, non-violence, and participatory democracy! My prayer for the right work I can do to help protect the wild ones has been answered! And I don’t even have to go to law school for three years! I think this is strong medicine. Maybe it’s owl medicine.

Photo Credit: Image Copyright Christopher Dodds, used with kind permission. All Rights Reserved. See other examples of Chris’s beautiful work at Chris Dodds Photo. 

To The Right Honourable Stephen Harper, Prime Minister of Canada,

I understand that the federal government of Canada is currently evaluating the Species at Risk Act (SARA). I am writing to urge you to take steps to ensure that the SARA protects and recovers endangered species in Canada.

Polls show that 80% of Canadians are strongly support endangered species legislation. As one of this 80%, I am deeply concerned about the loss of species that has already occurred, and offer my support to your government to take the necessary steps to protect the species that are at risk.

Please consider acting on these steps, recommended by the Wilderness Committee:

1) Obey the law. Follow the provisions of the Species at Risk Act.

2) Follow timelines. Stop procrastinating. 67% of recovery strategies haven’t met mandated timelines. Endangered species need our help now.

3) Identify and then legally protect critical habitat. Scientists know you can’t recover endangered species without first identifying and then protecting their habitat.

4) List species scientifically. The decision to list a species at risk should be based on science, not politics.

5) Use the “safety net” provision. If an endangered species falls under provincial jurisdiction and isn’t adequately protected, the federal government needs to use SARA’s “safety net” provision to ensure that no endangered species fall between the cracks.

As a citizen of Canada, I want you to know that you have my support to take these steps. It seems that economic considerations often take precedence over taking action to protect wild creatures and wild places. As an ecopsychologist, I believe that we need to preserve the little wildness that is left, for the longevity of the human race and the ecosystem we depend on. Canada’s reputation for justice and caring about the environment is also at stake. Please make protecting endangered species a top priority.

With respect and kind regards,

Karen Rempel, MA

I called the SPCA many times, and put an ad on Craigslist, as well as a poster on the light post at Nanaimo and Wall Street. There were a few false leads, but Donald did not turn up. Still, the fact of his being gone didn’t really sink in, and I took it pretty lightly. On other occasions when he’s gone missing I have cried and thought about the early days when he first came into my home at Monkey Valley, a flea-ridden little bundle of fur that I had to keep in quarantine so that he wouldn’t infest the other cat I had at the time. I cried about his sad first days here, and wished I’d done things differently. I remember going into the bathroom where he was detained, several times a day, to give him food and affection. He climbed onto my lap and mewed and purred and was so happy to have some attention.

Little did the poor kitty know that he was living with mood-swing mama! I regret all the times I had angry outbursts around the house, not directed at him, but I think affecting him nonetheless. I wonder if these outbursts drove him out of the house!

Anyone who knows Donald knows what a curious adventurer he is. He spent most of the time in Vancouver out on the street prowling around, or else in other people’s houses! If they had a cat, he’d be sure to try to eat their cat’s food. One time he sampled a pie that my friend Azusa had left on the counter. He snuck into their place in the middle of the night, and dug into the pie like a starving gypsy. Another time he knocked their cat Himiko’s bag of cat food off the top of the fridge, causing a major kibble spill on the kitchen floor! The neighbours beside us reported that one evening they had a visitor from England, and Donald spent the night sleeping with him!

When we moved to Wall Street, Donald was again my emissary into the neighbourhood. He hopped through windows and slunk through cat doors, and was soon known by all the neighbours in the area—long before anyone knew my name they knew who Donald was!

The concern when Donald went missing was very moving to me. Emails were sent around the neighbourhood, and people I’d never met came up to me to ask if Donald had come home. One woman said Donald was a very kind cat. What an astonishing testimony! Especially since he often hissed at me when I picked him up! The sad thing was that Donald really didn’t seem to like being around me. He didn’t want to be at home with me. He always preferred to be outside. Maybe he was a cat with a mission, spreading sunshine to all he encountered!

As I have told some of you before, he was a totally different cat at Monkey Valley. Maybe because here I’m the only game in town, he usually hung around with me all day long, and he would come lay on the couch with me and purr in the evenings. He only did that a handful of times in Vancouver during the six years we were together!

So coming home to Monkey Valley this month, the loss of Donald finally hit me. In Vancouver we both had our own friends, and our own lives. But up here, we just had each other. The first night I was in the tub, and I could have sworn I heard Donald scamper up the stairs and give a little sneeze like he used to do. I wondered if Donald’s ghost was here, in the place he loved the most. (Later I realized it must have been a pack rat scaling the outside log wall of the cabin.)

I cried when I saw the ball of red string that was one of Donald’s favourite toys. He got it at the SPCA one time when I was stressed out doing my master’s degree and took him and the other cat there for a cooling off period. The next day when I went back, Crush had already been adopted, but that rapscallion Donald was still there, and I took him home, together with his new toy. All these memories, and reminders of when I was not the kind of person I wish to be! I suppose that Donald taught me a lot. What I miss the most is the purry little one whom I held in my arms.

Lots of visitors to Monkey Valley will recall Donald racing down the path to the medicine wheel, or scratching at their tents while they were trying to sleep. Many people took photos of him, drawn to capture the essence of his supreme cat self.  I hope you enjoy these pictures of Donald, and join me in wishing him well, wherever he may be. Goodbye Donald. May your spirit be at peace.

“You know, this story of yours is so fascinating. I was right with you there at the end when you said you weren’t sure that the owls were giving you medicine, as your teacher had suggested. It sounds to me like they were angry! They wanted you out of there!

“One thing occurs to me: have you made an offering to the owls? In that place where you encountered them? Maybe some food, some flowers, whatever else seems appropriate. Some prayers for them and their well-being and a statement of your own well meaning.

“Often, I think, we need not understand these close and mystifying encounters with the wild… we just need to reflect on them for all our days and be grateful to have been invited in so far and survived to tell about it. That on its own is sacred.”

Wow, what a sense of freshness to consider that the owls may simply have been REALLY ANGRY! This opens up a whole new area of thought, about how we have encroached so much on the wild places, leaving no room for the animals to have peace to live undisturbed. Perhaps the owls are spokespersons for the animal kingdom! My desire to help protect wild animals and wild places is strengthened.

Shortly after this I dreamt bears and deer were being raised for their parts, kept in a pen with underground tunnels. When I found out what was going on I forced a conservative red-neck type man to the ground, sat on him, and told him I was going to stop him and the others from killing animals. It was a very clear declaration. This dream was revealing my wish to do something more concrete to help change attitudes about the rights of wild creatures, educate people about the importance of preserving wild areas, and speak out for those whose voices are not heard.

I also appreciated the idea of making an offering to the owls. I had not thought of that, but I love this idea and will do so. It also feels freeing to consider the idea of not having to understand these mystical encounters with the rational mind and pin them down into a specific meaning. But to let them keep touching me in a not-knowing place for the rest of my life, with gratitude for the gift.

Photo credit: Great grey owl by Miguel Lasa. Used with permission.

I learned that the great grey owl (gray to you American readers) is the provincial bird emblem of Manitoba. According to The Owl Pages, they are known to be very aggressive near their nest, and have driven off predators as large as black bears! I guess I shouldn’t feel too bad. They are one of the largest owls in the world, though the ones I saw were not as large as they can get: 28″ tall with a wingspan of 56″! Evidently they have lived to 40 years of age in captivity. No wonder there is a saying about the wise old owl!

These sources of information are helpful in extracting meaning from the experience, but the deepest meaning must come from within…

What does this have to do with my indigenous soul?

The day after the owl struck me there were scabs on my head. The owl had definitely permeated my physical boundary and entered into my body. I wished I had a wise teacher I could tell the story to, who could tell me what this meant. I wished I was in apprenticeship with a medicine woman or man who would guide and teach me. How can I be the guide, and the one whom others turn to for guidance, when I know so little? I have learned from many wise teachers, and I could have called on one of them to talk about what happened. If fact, I did have the opportunity to do this some weeks later. But at the time of the event, I wished to be part of a community where my medicine teacher was nearby. I have idealized the times when our peoples lived in smaller groups, in communities of people with elders to turn to, and a shaman or medicine woman for counsel, and where each of us had our role or place in the community. I think this desire to live in a close, small community is part of the remembrance of my indigenous soul of an earlier time when we did live together in harmony with the land. It is part of the pleasure of meeting in groups to go on the vision quest. It is a re-creation of how we used to live, and it always feels so right.

And so it is with my loneliness for connection with the animal world. I believe this is an expression of my indigenous soul as well. We grew up and evolved together with the animals. The way we live in now, in a planet shaped by 10,000 years of agriculture, forestry, and domination over the natural world, has made the animals afraid of us. Contact with animals is a gift I have been fortunate to experience many times on vision quests. And occasionally on runs through the woods, as I have described here. My indigenous soul knows that this encounter had meaning and significance. Maybe my indigenous soul even knows what the meaning is. However, my city self, ego self, Karen-in-the-world struggles to find her way to that deeper place that knows the truth about messages from wild creatures.

When I am out on a vision quest, or during those periods of time when I have lived in the wilderness, it is not so hard to know that deeper place. It is much more difficult in the city, in the midst of the daily concerns and pressures of earning a living and meeting responsibilities. It is hard to quiet and slow down enough to tune into the still place of my indigenous soul. But more than this everyday difficulty, when that owl hit me in the head, it reminded me of my father hitting me in the head when I was a child. It was a shock, and I dare say reactivated early trauma. The feeling of betrayal that nature would treat me this way was extremely upsetting and shook my whole view of the natural world as my friend, my safe place, the place that cared about me. It shook my faith in my indigenous soul. It has been hard to find my way back.

The wisdom of the owl

My medicine teacher, when I had the opportunity to talk with her in California a few weeks later, said that the owl put its medicine right in me by striking me on the head like that. This is what I wanted to hear. That there was something good about what had happened. That it meant I was special. This is the truth of the indigenous soul, surely? The message that owl has for me? That I am wise like the owl, have keen hearing, can pierce into the depths of people’s souls and true intentions? This is the kind of meaning I have sought from nature; to know myself and my strengths more accurately.

But you know, I don’t think this is the meaning of the owl encounters. The shock of being struck has kept me from running in that lush green place that was my favourite place to go. There is a learning here about respect. Respect for the wild animals and their ways. Respect for the vast force of nature. Though I am a small part of it, it is not all about me. There are large and mysterious processes at work of which I know little. Perhaps some humbleness is in order. A creature weighing only four pounds scared the indigenous soul right out of me! That should teach me something about respect. Clearly it’s not an either-or proposition of fear or oneness. But a call to a larger view that includes a healthy respect, a wiser understanding of the wild ones, and the oneness too.

At the beginning of this story I was wrapped up in who should do the cooking, and it seemed like a life-or-death question. The owls thought I was a threat to them, and their defensive maneuvers were in response to a perception of a life-or-death situation. I think we were both wrong! In the larger view I can take now, several months later, I think the life-or-death situation is a much bigger one, in which our animal friends are being forced off the planet through human expansion and exploitation. I feel the call to my indigenous soul to bring all of my resources to bear in doing what I can to protect them. I am being called to be much bigger than I ever thought I could. I am considering studying environmental law so that I will have the power and knowledge to do something more concrete to help. May I keep hearing the call of my indigenous soul, and discover the best way that I can help my animal kin. May we all. Continued here…

Photo © Rossano Russo, displayed on The Owl Pages. Used with permission.

I stopped, and bowed to the owl, thanking it for coming to visit me again. I opened my awareness to pure consciousness, wanting to sense the field of the owl and listen for anything it might be wanting to tell me. After a few moments, I heard a sound behind me. I turned to look, and the second owl was there, on a branch about the height of my head, only about six feet away. What a gift, to have the owls trust me and come so close!

When I turned back to look at the first owl, it was gone, but suddenly it swooped over my head again. I remembered stories about great grey owls that I’ve heard from friends recently, and recalled that they can be aggressive, even knocking peoples’ hats off their head. It occurred to me that maybe the owl was telling me to hit the road, that I was too close to the nest or something. I said this to the owls, that I would continue on my way, and turned to continue running up the path. Next thing I knew, one of the owls had struck me very forcefully on the top of my head. Ouch! What a shock! It was a forceful blow, quite amazing considering these owls only weigh about four pounds.

Okay, okay, I get the message, I’m leaving! I thought. I continued to run up the path, and one of the owls swooped very close to my head again, though it didn’t strike me this time. It continued swooping in loops alongside me a few more times, until I came to the same bend in the road as the previous night. There the two owls perched, and watched as I left their territory. I paused to say goodbye, voicing the fact that I didn’t much like being struck that way, but still appreciated their presence.

As I continued up the next bit of trail, the full impact of what had happened sunk in. I began to cry as I ran. My head hurt, but what hurt more was my heart. I had been so open to the presence of the birds, feeling like it was a gift. I thought I was special, and that the encounter was proof that I have some kind of special connection with nature. I have longed for closeness with wild creatures, and the night before it had seemed this was what was happening. And also it had seemed a clear answer to a question I was holding. In previous times, when people were closer to the land, the land and her creatures were ensouled with meaning, and such encounters had significance. I had sought this significance myself, but in feeling physically hurt, it seemed all of this was wiped away. I was just a fool on a run, blundering through an owl’s territory, unwelcome. All of this wounded my pride, my identity, shook up my view of reality.

Suddenly I had more sympathy for people who feel frightened of nature. Perhaps this is what was most upsetting about the encounter (and also the gift, to understand how others feel). I have always felt nature is a friendly place, or at worst neutral. But it’s a place I have felt safe, and have trusted. This encounter shook that trust. I don’t know yet the full impact on me. To be continued…

Photo Credit: Image Copyright Christopher Dodds, used with kind permission. All Rights Reserved. See other examples of Chris’s beautiful work at Chris Dodds Photo. 

Suddenly, as I neared the bend, a great grey owl flew over my head! It wasn’t totally silent, otherwise I wouldn’t have heard it… It came to rest on a branch overhead, and I stopped to say hello and thank it for its presence. It was dusk, so I couldn’t see details clearly, but the owl seemed to be grey, rounded head (no visible ear tufts like the great horned owl), with lighter feathers at the bottom of the tail. The owl looked at me for a long time, and after a while it made a sound like FFFFFsh. and then I heard another sound behind me. I looked, but couldn’t see what had made the sound. Then I realized there was a second great grey owl behind me!

I hung out with them both for about 10 minutes. They flew around a bit, coming closer to me to get a better look! Silent, puffy flight, but noise hopping from a branch to a lower branch, and once or twice noise opening their wings. One time I looked at one and the other one flew away without me hearing a thing. But they seemed interested in me, flew to nearer branches, both looked at me. They also both flew at each other and dislocated the roosting one from a branch. It was such a wonderful gift!

For reasons which I can’t reveal here, it was obvious that nature was providing a very clear answer to the question about the chefs. Joe and Wahl absolutely must come and do the cooking next time! Grey owl said so! And I was thrilled both to have this magical encounter, and to have what I thought was a very clear answer to a question, for a change! To be continued…

Photo © LaClocheGallery.com. Used with permission.

I dreamt I was in a forest, in a ravine with a wood log overhead that bridged the lower place. Suddenly a stream of animals started running by overhead—wild animals, like mountain goat, rabbit, maybe fox or coyote, deer… I didn’t see them all clearly, but felt it was a gift to see them so close. I wanted them to stay with me longer. (Remember the video I described in the post entitled Mixed media and more sex for the New Year? It had a very similar stream of animals, running from a forest fire. Amazing!)

Then I realized the animals must all be running from something, and the only thing it could be was a mountain lion. Then I saw the mountain lion. It was walking around coolly and calmly, and it was stalking me!

Now the mountain lion and I were in a more open space, by the ocean, near where the forest was. It was still forested, with some trees on a peninsula. The mountain lion was after me, but suddenly I was the mountain lion and it had changed into a man and I was taking huge bites out of his legs and chest. I sank my teeth in and the flesh bled—deep and big bites, but I didn’t bite all the way through or tear the flesh. It felt really good to sink my teeth in and bite like this. Wow!

When I woke and reflected on the dream, I remembered a dream I had back in 2007 when I first started working specifically with anger with a naturopath (after a short relationship ended because my anger scared the man I was involved with). In the earlier dream, I had gone to a doctor in a hospital for some healing, and she pulled a limp cougar out of a garbage can. She was going to use some of its life energy to heal me, but I knew it was a crime to keep the cougar half-dead and use its energy this way. (For more about this dream, see the blog entry Cougars: Spirit Guides on the Vision Fast.)

Now the mountain lion of my psyche is very robust, alive, and powerful. All are afraid of it, and it is me. I wonder if this is connected to the balls I claimed on the medicine walk, stepping into my masculine energy, power, and ability to look after myself. I am no longer stalked—I am the stalker. Bear in mind that this is not literal! But what I take from the dream is that like the cougar, I have stepped into my true nature more fully. It is in the cougar’s nature to bite its prey. And in the dream it was in its full power—no longer vampirized as a source of life energy.

I do feel the currents of this shift in my daily life. I feel a more consistent sense of having all the resources I need within me, accessible to me, available when needed. Together with this is a sense of completeness, so there are more elements of my nature available than just the strength or power—there is also love, compassion, contactfulness. The challenge, as always, is how to bring these gifts to my people. How to embody the qualities of my true nature as I act in the world.

In addition, my current task is still to keep working with the anger that arises from time to time. To know that it is not the deepest truth about who I am. To know that acting from an angry place will scare others and make them want to run from me, like the animals fleeing from the cougar in the dream. To temper the power and strength with compassion for others. I have finally come to see, somewhat reluctantly, that speaking or acting from the angry place is just not constructive. There are more skillful means available to me. I will keep you posted about how well I learn to wield them! I am still learning the difference between assertive and aggressive.

I start a new technical writing contract on Monday, and I pray that I handle any opportunities for learning that may arise with skill and grace.

I’m answering you as a blog entry rather than a comment, so I can include photos. I’ve puzzled over the pictures you sent me of marks on a tree, as well as the details about measurements and known wildlife in your area. I also consulted with an expert woodswoman.

The width of the marks you found is within the range possible for cougars (3.5 to 4.8 inches) or bear (3.75 to 5.5 inches). Cougars would likely only show four claw marks together, as their fifth claw, like a domestic cat, is located separately and further back from the four front claws. Bears can show five claws, but, especially in the case of black bears, the fifth one is usually faint.

However, the real deciding factor was the regularity of the marks (as in the photo to the left). I believe that a wild animal would not make such regular marks (12 sets, separate from each other), and the lines would not be so even and parallel. Also, I think the animal would not scratch upwards, as were the marks shown in one of your photos (shown above).

I’m including a photo of bear marks, which shows that the path of the mark is less regular, and has only four claw marks. The curved lines are more typical of the natural arm movement of a bear.

The second photo is of cougar marks, and you can see the lines are very thin, and there is a lot of overlap as the cougar scratched repeatedly in the same spot.

So the conclusion I have reached is that the marks on the main tree you found were made by humans. The expert woodswoman I consulted thought some of the marks might have been made using an axe. However, the other marks you found on a different tree were less regular and could have been made by a cougar or bear. Thanks very much for writing and sharing this puzzle with me and the other readers on this blog!

It must have been a repeat of what my friend Munro saw near here earlier in the summer, because I could hear and see some of the cubs scrabbling up a tree. The mama bear made a lot of huffing noises, telling me to clear out! I watched for a few more seconds, then got the bait from the barn. I peeked out the barn window, trying to see the bears up the hill, but I could only see trees. When I went back outside into the clearing where I’d first seen the bears, I could still hear mama bear huffing at me. So I retreated back to the house. I could even hear her huffing from the back deck outside my bedroom while I was doing my post-run yoga, and now and then the sound of a cub climbing around in the tree as dusk came down the hill.

It was such a wonderful surprise, and I’ve been looking forward to writing and sharing it with you, dear blog readers. The next day I went over there and I found a lot of disturbed earth under the tree I think the cubs went up. I’d seen one climb up to the very top of a tall fir (maybe 60 feet tall?). I couldn’t see any scratch marks, probably because there were so many branches that they could use for climbing. But I did find a big pile of bear poo in front of the barn, as well as the several piles I’d seen before on the road! So this solved the mystery of the big poo and the little poo. Clearly there was a big mama bear and some little baby bears pooping on my road!

As I’ve mentioned before, bears are associated with the west part of the wheel, and a sign of the fall. The fall equinox is next Tuesday, so this visit might be a precursor to the coming of fall. But it was also the 9th anniversary of the death of my father, and I think that he might have sent these bears as a treat for me. I just completed the final installation of my cell phone power booster the day before, and received four wonderful phone calls this day too. What a magical day. A lot of love and support from the universe, from family, friends, bears, and hot guys! Thanks, Dad. May your spirit be at peace.