In the late afternoon sun, shadows dance in between trees and on the dark waters of Linnet lake. I muse…the peace and quiet makes for a perfect stroll around the lake trail.


I head to the right, navigating fallen branches and stones, working my way in the shrubbery. The running of feet on the sandy shore causes my head to turn though as I thought I was alone. Two people, a couple would be my guess, are waving their arms silently as they are out of breath.

“Why don’t you speak?”….

The gentleman is first to utter a soft spoken word….”there is a bear in the bushes my friend, about fifty feet up the trail…”

I thank them for the warning, but instead of heading back I want to push my luck.
I want to see the bear for myself, brave the danger of nature, try to survive a possible attack.
You have a death wish….
I turn though and follow the trail from the other direction, as I feel it gives one a better vantage point of any upcoming bears that may be lurking in the berry bushes scavenging for food before the long upcoming winter.

Singing loudly, kicking up leaves and small pebbles, I slowly work my way forward. I hear the rustling of branches, but do not spot the Linnet lake bear. The adrenalin rush though is something else.
I burn off the excess energy by running along the shore, skipping stones into the lake, chasing a family of ducks.
Exhausted, I rest on a log and wait for a sign of life under the watchful eye of a great mountain.

I try to tempt the bear by lying down, but to no avail. Perhaps another day will fare better for spotting bears…..

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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