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Love, peace and goodness to you, yours and the (H)eartH...
On the morning of the fourth of July, I awoke to a sound. I sat up beneath the shade of the tree and gathered my things and went to investigate. I looked in the direction of the sound and saw a baby bear hopping up and down on a trash bag it had just tossed in the air as the Mother bear stood as sentinel. I dropped my blankets (in case I had need to run) and stepped ever so lightly toward the baby bear (at an angle that favored the front door)… the cub saw or smelled me, because baby and mama bear instinctually hightailed it around the cabin and out of sight. I uttered a sorry and (instinctually) hustled inside.
It was a lovely experience to have witnessed, although, at the wee hour of 6 in the morning, before coffee, before sustenance, before my eyes had adjusted to the light, it was a bit much to consider. From that experience I took away that there were bears in the area and that I was fortunate on several levels. That night, when sleep beckoned me, I laid my head beneath a different tree.
Dear mama and baby bear, thank you for not eating me…
© 2012 by the spirits dancing with mark richard prime