
When the kids were young, they had a standing April Fool’s joke.
One of them would get a rubber band. Then, they would twist the rubber band around the sprayer on
the kitchen sink. When I would use the sink, their trick would get me. Turning on the faucet would now
turn on the kitchen sink sprayer. And then I was surprised.
Every year, I would be sprayed with water.
And when next year came, I would do the same thing. Of course, I knew I was going to get wet, but that
wasn’t the point. The kids had come up with this marvelous April Fool’s Day joke, so I always played
along. In a few more years, I’ll be teaching my grandkids the same trick to play on their parents.
I am certain each of my kids will enjoy the April Fool’s Day joke they are now seeing from the other side.
As I sat down to write about April Fool’s Day, that story popped into my head.
There must have been many other April Fool’s Day jokes played, but that one stands out. Since moving back to Virginia, April
Fool’s Day would mark the day I would start bringing the bird feeders in at night.
Watching bears destroy the feeders was only fun long after it happened.
Seeing bears from the night vision camera on the porch was exciting. But it wasn’t in the Bears’ best
interest to attract them. A doctor told me, “A fed bear is a dead bear.” I know what
they mean, and I have been careful not to continue feeding the bears.
On my phone, my 9 PM alarm is titled “Bring in the BEAR feeders.”
Several years ago, people in the next holler established a trash dump on someone’s property. The bears
now incorporate that into their nightly roving. It’s been several years since a black bear has been
around. Last year, I tempted fate and left the bird feeders out. Some nights, they were pretty full.
And yet there were no nighttime bear visits.
It’s a few days past April first, and so far, NO BEARS.
I feel sad that the bears are finding plenty of forage on the other side of the mountain. But I am happy that I do not need to bring in the bird feeders every
night. Sometimes, I forget where we live. Our 5 acres are tucked on the mountain’s edge below Skyline Drive and the Appalachian Trail.
I need to remember that our neighbors are rabbits, deer, foxes, cows, horses, and the occasional alpaca.
We picked this area when we moved back from New Jersey. And the few bird feeders I have replaced
have been a small price to pay for the privilege of living in the mountains.
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