Last weekend, my neighbor texted me that he left a half peck of fresh-picked blueberries in my mudroom. For those of you outside the country woods of Litchfield County, this gesture is roughly the equivalent of a dozen roses delivered just for the love of it. Blue or purple, pint or peck, these vibrant little orbs are the sweetest treats of the season.

The abundance of these plump berries this August is a blessing. May’s late-season frost and July’s flooding and excessive heat ravaged other crops and early bloomers like Patriot blueberries. But some varieties fared beautifully. They’re juicier for the extra rain and ready to be harvested. Blueberries that are ripe and bulbous will crack if not plucked from the vine. So, we’re all out gathering and gifting our beloveds baskets of blueberries. Lucky us.

We humans are not the only ones enamored of blueberries in August. It’s the natural food of choice for our ursine neighbors as well. Black bears residing in northwestern Connecticut delight in leisurely enjoyment of this fruit at this time of year. They’ll park at a bush and clean off a vine at a time dining for twenty hours a day at this botanical table. With a healthy black bear consuming 5000-8000 calories each day in the summer, that’s a lot of blueberries. Hence that text. It’s important in my neck of the woods that when we share our pickings via mudroom deliveries we alert our recipients in a timely manner. If comestibles are left too long outdoors, unattended, or easily accessible in vehicles or mudrooms here in Litchfield County, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for our furry friends.

Here we share the habitat with black bears. If you leave certain foods around at certain times of the year, they figure it’s theirs and odds are you’ll have a bear on your deck or in your trash shed. Truth be told, I just interrupted this writing to dash to my kitchen and refrigerate the blueberries I photographed. It’s a sun-drenched, dry, 70-degree afternoon and all my doors and windows are open. My blueberries were on the sidebar next to the deck. I get giddy seeing black bears and have enjoyed the privilege many times in the pop-up zoo that is my backyard. But I don’t need a bear sitting at my dining room table when I head back to blend my smoothie.

This little bear traversed my yard and posed sweetly for the photo one June day during mating season. That’s when black bears scout out their options for places to den in winter.

See my earlier post: https://lisabernard.wordpress.com/2022/03/18/here-there-wheres-my-little-bear/

The sow that denned for four months in the rock cave behind my home.

Black bear expert Felicia Ortner with our Connecticut Department of Energy and Environmental Protection (DEEP) reminded me this spring, that once you no longer fear bears, you must remember to respect them and not think for a single moment that you can pet, cuddle or get too close to them. And for heaven’s sake, don’t inadvertently invite them to cross a boundary, to come “indoors” – be it your garage, porch, or car.

This black bear was frolicking in my yard for hours when s/he approached my deck and stood up. That’s a sign of curiosity; they want to take a closer look. I shook my “bear scare can” – a coffee can containing coins. The loud sound is unfamiliar to bears and sent this one scurrying away. And the ruckus set a clear boundary. My backyard is fine for a visit, but you’re not allowed on my deck.

The operative word is inadvertently. In March and April, as black bears emerge from their winter slumber, they eye bird feeders and birdseed. Put up a feeder, fill it to the brim, and watch the black bears find and devour the seeds within. From May through August, leave salmon scraps on your grill, berries on the bench, or any leftovers in unlocked trash bins and the bears will swing by, have a seat, and help themselves. I don’t know who sent the fruit basket last summer, but I returned home to my young neighbor peering timidly around the corner and pointing out the bear digesting its contents on my front steps. She was frightened. My neighbor, that is. The bear was content. And so stinkin’ cute.

After years of close encounters with black bears and studying of their behaviors, I no longer fear them. I’m comfortable observing them at a proper distance on bear-spotting hikes and enjoy watching their antics and acrobatics on my property. This year’s blueberry harvest reminds me why. Climatic factors and seasonal change impact their behavior and suggest we ought to modify ours.

Take the drought of 2022. It occasioned bears to travel beyond their wooded habitats to source food among human populations and in suburban environs, to which they’ve become acclimated and habituated. They remind me of my kids on Halloween back in the day. They and their friends remembered where the best candy was handed out from year to year. Bears, too, return to those places where the treats are good and plentiful and dispensed in effortlessly toppled and easily-opened trash cans, cooled-down barbeques, and portable coolers with leftover watermelon.

Master Wildlife Conservationist Felicia Ortner (left) and her DEEP associate (right) presented The Bear Reality, an indepth and instructive lecture, in May 2023 at Connecticut’s Beardsley Zoo.

In parts of Connecticut in the first half of 2023, some black bears became a nuisance, a source of worry, and occasionally a threat to residents’ property and safety – all excellent reasons to plan carefully this summer for the autumn ahead. July’s searing temperatures bought us some time. Oppressive humidity, excessive heat indexes, and record rainfall kept black bears off the hot pavement. Fewer sightings were reported. It makes sense. Since bears don’t shed their fur coats, they endured the excessive heat by laying belly down in shady and cool spots like streams and ponds, releasing body heat through their highly vascularized paws, nearly bare inner thighs, bellies, and faces. But now they’re back. Sightings are up again. So as we gather our blueberries, freezing and jarring for fall’s pies and preserves, let’s be mindful that our black bears will soon commence their autumn eating as well. Their intake spikes to 20,000 calories per day as they fatten up for their winter.

In the all-you-can-eat-buffet of the sodden woods, black bears naturally gravitate towards an 85% vegan to vegetarian diet for their nourishment, grabbing the occasional carrion or other easy-to-score flesh for some fat and protein beyond the insects they (nicely for us) consume. But in suburban and more densely populated towns, the lure of human food looms large. The more abundant and accessible it is, the more likely black bears will seek it out, stay a while, and come back for more. As much as we get a kick out of the videos of four black bears tumbling out of commercial garbage bins, one at a time, mugging for the squealing photographer, each one funnier than the other, like clowns out of a phone booth, we need to be locking up those bins. Maybe we can start collecting trash at sunset, especially on Sundays, rather than giving bears the night vision and early riser advantage in commandeering the cans filled like chafing trays with the weekend’s bounty.

I am thrice relieved that our state legislature did not pass a bill initiating a Litchfield County bear-hunting lottery to control the swell in our black bear population. For starters, I didn’t hear a persuasive or even logical argument that hunting down bears in the forested northwestern corner of our state could control the growth or behavior of the bear population in central Connecticut where bear-human boundaries are being crossed. Until July’s heatwave, black bears were helping themselves to bags of pet food stored in peoples’ vehicles, cupcakes boxed for delivery in a bakery’s transit area, and snacks from the extra refrigerators in the garages attached to private homes in Hartford County. Those are not scenarios that often play out in sparsely populated areas here in the Litchfield County woods where the all-you-can-eat buffet is open 24/7 to all bears and their cubs. In fact, it’s noteworthy that in my hamlet’s vast community garden – and its neighboring horse stables and small animal farm with poultry and other feeds and grains in secrued bins on the premises – has been unbothered by black bears for more than twenty years. This suggests that the abundance of vegetation, seeds, nuts, berries and insects in the forest, fish in the ponds and streams, and carrion in the woods, gives black bears ample food sources and nutrition. Could it be that our horses adjacent to the vegetable plots deter the bears? Could be. Nevertheless, we are meticulous about securing trash bins, limiting bird feeders to the ursine off-season, and cleaning our outdoor grills after each use.

If a hungry bear is a nuisance, an injured one from a bullet or arrow that failed to kill it is a potentially angry and dangerous one. Injured black bears that are unable to run or swim or climb trees for their protection, and bears in pain that precludes them from foraging for proper nutrition become unpredictable, sometimes aggressive. We’ve all been hangry and “hungry as a bear.” Add that to a hardwired need to fatten up for the winter. Consider, too, that not every hunter is a skilled marksman or archer and even those who are can certainly miss a shot from time to time. It seems wise to avoid activities like hunting that might injure a black bear rather then neutralize it, enraging it at the very time of year its every instinct is to eat, eat, and eat some more to pack on the pounds ahead of hibernation.

Riding my late horse, Dolce, through the trails, where occasionally a bear would cross without incident. I did not fear stray bullets or arrows on Sunday afternoon rides, the time of week when the defeated bear-hunting lottery would have allowed for bear hunts on state land that abuts our riding paths.

Connecticut’s scenic and historic state trails for strolling, jogging, hiking, and horseback riding are no place for bullets and arrows on a Sunday afternoon in the fall, particularly in a part of the state where walkers, runners, hikers, and trail riders encounter black bears with some regularity but without incident.

As a newbie to New England, I feared the bears. Over the years, I’ve grown to adore and respect them, especially the sows, the females. They’re devoted mamas. They’re athletic, resourceful, and independent, yet patient, social, curious, and nurturing. They prefer fruits, nuts, fish, and vegetables, but if you labor to serve up a tasty chicken, they won’t dismiss it, ignore your efforts, or insult you by passing it up. So, let’s not go there. Let’s all keep our foods and feeds to ourselves, and let the bears be bears, enjoying theirs from nature’s bounty.

Lisa Bernard lives just 100 steps from protected state land shared peacefully with black bears and other wildlife. She’s been bluff-charged by a black bear asserting her boundary around the tree housing her cubs, and had a sweet yearling den behind her home for four months one winter. These and other bear adventures inspire her ongoing bear-spotting and research into their nature, activities, and rather predictable behavior. She is fortunate to have neighbors who agree to protect their black bears by securing their trash in metal bins, avoiding birdfeeders when the bears emerge from hibernation, and keeping all home access points food-free. Learn more about Lisa’s travels, pastimes, and passions @LisaBernardWriting. Hear more from her about bears on WICC600 with Melissa in the Morning. If you dig this essay, leave a comment below. If you take issue with anything, reach out to LisaBernardWriting@gmail.com and start a dialogue. If you want to leave blueberries in Lisa’s mudroom, please text ahead. 😊