My first night sleeping in New York City I was convinced crazy people were crawling up my fire escape to rob and brutalize me.
But no, it was the clank and clatter of a city.
My first night sleeping in Montana, I was sure an angry bear was breaking down the screen door to eat me.
But no, it was a persistent wind.
Adjusting to the ways of a new place takes a while.
After three weeks living on 100-acres where large potentially aggressive animals do roam, I’m trying to be composed about it and not lambast myself for being scared or cautious. Right when I thought I was slipping into a Zen place about solo exploring through huckleberries, we met our neighbor, a woman who has lived here for 25 years.
“Oh yeah, there’s a resident mountain lion, she explained, “But she knows the rules.”
“Does that scare you?” I asked, trying to seem aloof about it…
“No you can’t develop a complex about it. I just don’t go skiing or snoe-showing at night, because that’s when she hunts. And if you do see her, look fierce and never turn your back.”
“What about grizzly bears. They don’t make it down here do they?”
“Yep. We had one in our backyard last year. They come down in the fall. But again, you can’t live in a place like this and worry about it.”
I took that information back to my abode, made a butter and lettuce sandwich and began to process. Am I a total dork if I’m scared? Am I attracting them if I’m scared? If I sometimes go to sleep with horrific images of maulings in my mind, am I a psycho? Did living in a city completely soften me to the wilds? People have lived among wild animals since eternity. Have I lost my human birthright of knowing how to coexist? Worse: If I’m writing a blog about it, is there a greater chance of encounter because I am energetically giving the topic weight?
Truth: These animals don’t want to see me come crashing around a bush either.
How can one be respectfully aware and still feel free to explore?
So now I whistle everywhere I walk. Or blabber talk loud like I have a mega-phone. When I casually brought it up to my friend Mandy, a biologist who spends her life studying animals, I thought she’d dredge up my confidence by saying, Oh, don’t worry they won’t bother you. But instead she said, “You are on their territory, Moll.” And so the learning process begins.
This entry was posted on Friday, July 31st, 2009 at 12:19 pm and is filed under Environment, Orienting. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
There are currently 12 responses
A butter and lettuce sandwich? That sounds terrible.
I read butter and lettuce sandwich and thought the same thing, Laurie!
But Moll, I think being scared is fine, but it’s also exciting to live so close to the natural world. There are pros and cons of city and country life and although this might be considered by some as a con to country life, I think it’s most definitely a pro. Most definitely. I envy you. Just be loud and careful, especially at night, dusk, and dawn.
Ha! I was hoping butter and lettuce sandwich would catch someone’s attention. I don’t mean hunk of butter like hunk of cheese. A thin spread of butter on toast with handful of lettuce on top, salt and pepper. Delicious.
A butter lettuce sandwich might just be your best defense against such critters. . .
Try peanutbutter and lettuce instead….much better for you and delicious…mother knows!
What is wrong with y’all? You haven’t lived until you’ve had a good crusty bread with butter and some spicy greens on top. And Laurie, you shouldn’t yuck someone’s yum, anyway. I think that Eric might have a point though… time to do some market research….
The advice I got in Colorado to ward off a bear when he crosses your path is to GET BIG.
I’ll have to try a BL sandwich.
lions. tigers. bears. oh my. two out of three is pretty impressive!
you need to trade in butter & lettuce for blat. bacon, lettuce, avocado, tomato.
have you read “the beast in the garden” by david baron? it’s about boulder and the increase in lion attacks as the community expanded. i’m just glad when we lived in vermont the giant prehistoric 800 lb beavers were already extinct, because that was a terrifying animal.
Whoa. The BL sandwich is approaching fame. Thank you everyone for making me laugh.
Prehistoric 800 lb beavers. Ooo la.
I sing loudly and clap while I jog at my cabin in Northern Pennsylvania to avoid black bear and bobcat encounters. I’ll try the sandwich thing!
Leave it to a wildlife biologist to bring up the 800 pound beavers. I’d go bare fisted against one of those before the fearsome and deadly saber-toothed tiger with three foot fangage.
A few weeks ago the New Yorker ran a brief story titled Panther(s)! Suburban Legend , about a town just north of Manhattan gone gaga over the appearance of supposed panthers along the Palisades. The author suggests that the thrill of wild lurking the in the backyard helped distract and uplift the town from the economic gloom and dooms many of its inhabitants faced. The article reminded me how brushing up against the wilderness can benefit suburban folks and excite a part of the nervous system that also needs tending to. In fact I wonder if we aren’t so hard wired to faced danger that when there isn’t some we go looking for it. Perhaps more cities should invite wildcats in.
Incidentally the article also reported that deli in Piermont named it chicken cutlet with melted mozzarella sandwich the “Panther Special,” perhaps there’s something to this. Have you named your sandwich yet Molls, I suggest the “Waiting for Wildcats with Lettuce.”