Just 40 yards from my stand, the tracks cut across the lumber trail I was walking along. They were too big to miss even in the dim light of dawn.
Bee thief. Honey stealer.
The tracks, left in three inches of heavy wet snow, were still distinct and fresh. Probably less than an hour old, I thought.
Five subsequent thoughts then crossed my mind, in the following order, I think.
Thought No. 1: This is really cool. It would be even cooler to actually see a bear. I hadn’t seen a bear in Vermont in two years.