After inconclusive and scanty evidence of visits from our local bear last fall, I was pleased to find abundant scat, black as truffles, in three heaps along the railway tracks, his customary trail... Clearly the bear had been at the abundant windfall plums, fermented in the warm September sun, big time. An involuntary shudder all that's left of my flight response. More nervous about being mistaken for a bear than being confronted by one. Lots of horsie evidence, a good thing, it means the solid upper-middle class has some stake in the right of way. It's as if the horses get to decide where the parks go.