It began with a large murder of crows and ended with the Northern Lights. Hundreds of the black birds spread across the rooftops and trees, flying into the brilliant October sky to send their caws to the wind and my awakened ears as I ventured from the parking lot to my class.

This would not be an ordinary day.

After a morning of teaching yoga and running errands, I returned home to a day without work. I fed the demanding cat a second breakfast, and the dogs their treats, then settled on the couch to cull through emails. Moments later, I felt an impulse to lift my head. Beyond the layers of autumn leaves and woven arms of the old apple and surrounding pines and maples, I saw a black shape in the oldest pine at the edge of my property. Even though it yielded no discernible shape, I knew instantly it was a bear.

Throwing caution to the wind (I do not advise this), I grabbed my phone and, without alarming the oblivious mutts, made my way onto the porch, out the back door, and through the gate in my backyard so that I could get a better look at what was attached to the old pine.

And there she was, staring through the golden leaves, watching me. Slung of the lowest limb that would hold her weight was a mama bear. Scampering up the trees above, were her three cubs. I inched slightly closer as I tried to focus my camera through the foliage to capture my unexpected guests. Not a smart choice, but I was close enough to the fence door for a quick exit should she decide to leave her post. Strangely, I felt safe and calm. Mama watched me without alarm as I snapped a few photos, and filmed her family as they settled in for a nap (Sorry, I am not attaching them film because I did utter an S*&t in shock).

And nap they did, for the next hour or so, while I wandered back inside to observe behind the safety of glass with Millie the cat. The dogs, succumbing to a strange impulse to slumber through their lunch hour, slept on their respective sofas, unfazed until their internal alarms finally alerted them that they had missed their meal.

Well not really, I fed the dogs a late lunch (and the cat, of course), and heated up some leftover butternut squash soup for myself while I strategized how I was going to walk the dogs without disturbing my slumbering guests.

It was as though the bears had put a spell on the household, and in particular the dogs. Quick to react to a passing dear, even when the curtains are drawn to the darkness, they failed to detect the four ursine intruders in their backyard, even after we walked through the front door. The only challenge was convincing Rosy that she did not want to take her usual lap around the house before we ventured down the street.

We were gone a mere ten or fifteen minutes, which is not uncommon for our walks these days. Senior dogs prefer the couch to the pavement, and so we turned back home before too long. As we entered the driveway, two crows flew above our heads, cawing into the pine behind the house where our visitors slept. Continuing to caw, as though in warning, they stayed in the tree until we were back inside.

As the dogs settled onto their couches to rest after their strenuous walk, I scanned through the foliage for my four friends. An hour unfolded into another as the bears woke, one by one, and casually made their way down the pine to explore the wooded area behind my house. Five hours in total, as I watched in rapt wonder with the occasional break, as they wrestled and played to the drumming of the woodpecker on my apple tree.

It was pure magic. Joy mingled with peace as the protective calm of mama bear flooded the area around my home and made its way to settle any energy of unease inside my home. What a gift it was to be present, for these five hours, in quiet observation of these wild wonders. Naturally, I could not help thinking of my Warriors of Light protagonist Sula while I watched the bears climb and play. Lover of trees and slumber, Sula carries inside of her the spirit of bear. And it is bear medicine that found me yesterday, as it always seems to at unexpected, yet perfect moments, to pull me through the veil of dreams. Tugging, gently, the cloak away from courage.

What are you waiting for…come play

And as if this was not enough magic for the one day, the night decided to compete for wonder in a show of Northern Lights:

The northern lights viewed from the back and front yards