From August until the snow flies, I keep an eye out at the valley bottoms for black bears. Five were seen apparently fattening up for hibernation: the first two fancied fish; others chose apples. Only the last two stuck around long enough for pictures for they were spotted asleep high in an apple tree.
A century ago, this valley had many orchards: apples, pears, plums, and cherries. That industry died, but descendants of those trees linger. It is likely that only the wildlife knows where all of the remaining trees are.
A black bear cub snoozed on a branch high in an apple tree. Below it, and partially hidden by the trunk, was another sleeping bear (mommy?).
At one point, the cub lifted its head and drowsily glanced at the distant interlopers.