Now I have Chevy, radio, and the depth sounder under control and now
if the camera would only work in the low last sun light enough to show black
bears against black rocks and black beach. On reviewing the pictures I notice
mom bear is missing part of her left nostril perhaps defending her cub against
an old HE bear?
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| A Cute Little Bear |
I write the events of the day in my log as if I don’t do it now, one
day blurs with another. The last light has vacated the horizon and only the ink
black is broken by the anchor and port lights of the boats presence riding at
anchor in the bay. You can hear their muffled voices and you know it is night
cap time as there is a sleep potion that goes with the quite ripple on the bay
and the satisfaction of a day well spent.
I arrive back at the old logging dock only to find another mom bear AND TWO CUBS doing the same thing. Chevy is now sitting watching on guard at the edge of the old timber dock looking at me for the command to voice her protest. I take the photos but I have little hope that I will capture the two frolicking cubs| The last time we were here I had heard the Wolves (about 5) calling Chevy out to play. I told her in no certain terms that all they wanted was her body and she is only 14 in human years; she would have to wait till she grows up a bit. It is time to ZZZZZZZZ for tomorrow is another day. |
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| Wells Pass Sunset |
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