In my essay from earlier this week (Are we alone in the universe?), I speak of close encounters of the first kind (“visual sighting of an unidentified flying object seemingly less than 500 feet away”); close encounters of the second kind (“a physical effect, such as electronic interference…”), etc. This incident on my driveway would be called a close encounter of the seventh kind (“lovestruck bear looking for mate crashes Fourth of July barbecue in the Catskills”) I call the bear “lovestruck,” because this is the mating period for eastern black bears, and it’s clear (and a relief to us) that he didn’t bring a date to our festivities. Was it the smell of grilled pork chops that attracted him or maybe the Blake Shelton music? He is an occasional visitor to our yard, but black bears are fairly harmless, though a bit of a pest because if hungry, they will go “dumpster diving” in your trash cans and make a mess in the process.

Seeing wildlife like this is one of the advantages to country living in my opinion, though my wife insists I call Animal Control. We’re constantly warned to keep a distance from wildlife, for their sake as well as ours. I can understand her point of view. What if one of us are walking our dog at night and the bear pops up? Or we’re fixing pork chops on the outdoor grill, listening to Blake Shelton? In the meantime, I hope he finds another bear to hook up with soon, that they have a family, and live happily ever after.