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  • Horny bears.

    Look out for Canadians in winter. Look out for the northern folk. They may want to folk you past folkloricos, because, let's face it, when winter comes, here come the horny bears.

    Is it simply that bears like candlelight, inside, in the early dark?

    After all, how can you be truly romantic in the long northern summers, when you look up from the table for two, in the bistro, and there's Ma and Pa and the kiddies from gosh-knows-where, galumphing in their short shorts and squishies, past the bistro window, on the hunt for something to eat which resembles their shoes?

    In winter, you can dine early and be in the dark as to your own horn, your own deeps, your desires, but the air is amber, and everything looks better by low candlepower, and you want to linger with a sip more of the red, and why not have that bad bad bad chocolate cake, bad to the nth it is so good. After all, baby, it's cold outside.

    And when the day breaks long slow and grey, what northern bear doesn't want to make a month of every Sunday, and if the bear has company...well, why not?

    This is the up side of the freeze, the snow, the pallid palette, the bear hunker life. You know it's true, you hungry bears. You know you like it. You do not mind, for a little while at least, that when winter comes, the bears get humping.

    It's just the way it is.

    Ask all the August-September-October-November babies.

    (Photo by Susan, at the Art Gallery of Ontario, October, 2012)
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