Look closely behind the mother bear's left rear leg and you'll see her second cub. S.W.M.B.O. ran inside and grabbed the camera when she saw the mother and cubs crossing the street toward our house around 10:30 am -- a very rare broad-daylight sighting. Bear sightings are almost always at sunrise or sundown. They're superb nearly invisible ghosts.
This isn't my permanent neighbor, Molly the Single Mother Bear who lives in the small woods in the middle of our block. This mother is smaller than Molly, so somewhat younger, and a few weeks ago we saw Molly with three cubs. And this mother and her cubs ended up strolling in a different direction from Molly's home in the woods behind our house.
Also, this bear doesn't have a radio tracking collar; Molly does. Her familiarity with the neighborhood might mean she's one of Molly's daughters.
Anybody want to see more of these? S.W.M.B.O. was very plucky and very lucky and snapped about six quite remarkable photos of our neighborhood visitors -- who were quiet and polite as could be.
The height from front paw to shoulder is based on the width of my neighbor's sidewalk -- 26 inches (I just went over there and measured it with a yardstick).
The state wildlife bear expert says there's plenty of room for these bears in the deep woods safe and far from where people live, but people keep putting up birdfeeders full of birdseed on their houses, a free smorgasbrod 24/7/365 for bears, who drift to the residential neighborhoods and stop hibernating during the winter, because there's always free food available. Bears seem to be natural schnorrers, which often gets them in trouble.
My grandnieces in Florida -- and maybe my little grandnephew too -- have named Molly's new cubs Honey, Jimboy and Bigfoot. Although these kids have alligators in their neighborhood, they think their alligators are boring, and are fascinated with my bear neighbors.
