The Love of Poop

In Canada, 'the weather' is consistently the choice of small talk. In Gibsons, this autumn, we have the honour of a new conversation; "Have you seen the bears, there are so many this year." I did see one in the spring, yet they have not graced this property with their visual presence since. I have seen poop. I am very proud to have seen poop and lots of it. Mounds of undigested green apples, some sort of red berries and other items I am not familiar with. When I meet with neighbours they say how the bears have sat in their yard or how they go through a certain spot every morning. I say with with dignity, I have seen poop. The neighbours think I am mad. I have told their grand children about poop and they should get a stick and dig through it, parents alike are not impressed with me. I have asked the neighbours to phone me when they see a bear so I can come rushing over to see too. It's just not fair. I am outside all the time, I have the camera all the time, I look out the windows all the time and I wait to see the all the bears that people are talking about and all I see is poop.

I have a respectful fear of bears, they have a greater fear of us. I wish for this fearful community to embrace the knowledge that the bears are here for such a short period of time. Perhaps one day, they will not be around to be fearful of, that is a very sad thought. Maybe I will go take a picture of poop, green poop and a beautiful poop it is.