If I were a bear, I would wonder at the highway widening through my home. I would wonder why the two-legged’s point and stare at me in both fear and amazement. I live here too. The world was certainly not created for two-legged’s only or else why would myself and all of the other creatures be here? They certainly act like the world is only for them. They toss their waste out of car windows or drag it out of the trunk and throw it into the woods thinking no one will see them. They drive by with their music so loud. This is the wild. We make our own music here.

As a bear I am a natural observer. The wise ones of past days used to observe me to find the good plants to eat and not be poisoned. Now the two-legged beasts eat what I never would unless I was starving. Sure, sometimes I will rummage through a garbage bag or a bin unguarded or even a car or tent with food. Why? My plants are dying, my food stuffs are being left on smaller and smaller plots of land due to human overpopulation, exploitation and greed for more land for more business, more roads, more automobiles, more hydro lines, more towns, bigger cities. My natural food supply and hibernating season is dwindling due to climate change caused by the two-legged beast with the locked in, frozen hearted mindset of greed, grief, and the terror of not being enough. Hmmm. I can’t put on enough weight in the autumn season to hibernate successfully. They blame me for being wild and dangerous.

I don’t carry a gun.

I don’t have access to poison.

I mind my own business and protect my children.

I am a natural protector.

Here, my human, two legged writer is questioning her story. Is she good enough to write about me. What I think, how I feel. My human, two-legged writer cares about me cause she believes she is me. She believes it to the depth and breadth of her bones and skin and heart and nails. She loves us so and is getting up the courage to listen in, really listen in to her all-knowing, all-seeing self and reveal her true calling to the world of two-legged’s.

She is amazing and kind and kind of goofy. She is brave and sometimes really really brave and speaks her mind without pausing first and plummets herself into darkness for days at a time. You see, this writer is letting go of who she thought she was and this takes time, and it hurts her so when she does this, she bleeds. Oh she bleeds love everywhere but on her.

Slow we go here Julie. Slow, slow, slow. Listen in. Shhhh. Slow. Times does not exist here in the now. remember.

Thank you for listening in.

Thank you for Love.


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