Over the last couple of weeks, the Twin Cities media have kept us informed of the ways of "nuisance" bears. And now we learn of more pesky wild critters. After the execution of the black bear that had been previously wounded by the poor marksmanship of a nuisance-getter, we learn that there are now "homely, smelly and destructive" brown marmorated stink bugs in our state. Not just an ordinary stink bug, but, as the Star Tribune noted, "the very definition of the unwelcome guest."
Profiling or labeling is one of the great embarrassments of being human.
Sadly, we not only profile individuals based on how they look, eat or believe, we have stooped so low as to unfairly judge hungry wildlife. And why not? Of all species on the planet, humans are not only the most judgmental but, arguably, the sloppiest.
An article was published recently in a local newspaper about a hungry black bear wandering into the city limits of Cambridge, Minn. Even though the paper noted that the bear was "taken care of," the situation did not end well for the bear.
Bruins learn early that us human types have a propensity to be messy with food. Why wouldn't a winter-hungry bear roam into a neighborhood following the promising smells coming from open garbage cans, torn garbage bags, open compost bins topped with yesterday's leftovers, and BBQ grills soaked in bratwurst and burger fat?
Bears are wise in avoiding humans. But once in a while they get used to us. Such bears are called habituated. They learn to ignore folks and basically become unafraid of humans. But that doesn't mean that we become unafraid of them. Most folks have a deep-rooted fear of large mammals with sharp teeth and claws. They are convinced that the bear will kill them.
Ignorance goes a long way in delivering a fear package. Black bears are expert omnivores. They eat a lot of plants and protein. But note that much of their protein is garnered from insects such as ant eggs and larvae. Every spring I watch black bears unabashedly slaughter heaps of dandelion blossoms as they graze roadside ditches near our outpost in the Yukon Territory.
As an avid hunter, I have come to learn that things are far more complex in the natural world than I can imagine. The passage of time — teamed with the genius of place and the inexplicable intricacies of the web of life — has me surrendering to wonder.