Four short scenes from the woods around a house, and a quiet sense of looking closely. The rain stops, and a pileated woodpecker starts hammering on the speaker's house, a funny, slightly intrusive moment that mixes wildness with home. Then comes a surprising idea: just as spring brings the trees to life, autumn does something similar for the rocks, which show up once the leaves drop and the ground is open to view.
The bear scratches are the heart of it. Four parallel lines on a log suggest a claw swipe, and the phrase "thought better of it" gives the bear a human hesitation, almost a sense of humor. The speaker never sees the animal, only what it left behind.
The last stanza turns toward surprise. Every year the speaker is "shocked" by how much the leaves had hidden. The mood is curious, wry, and attentive, with a gentle wonder at how much is always there, unseen.