Kruck…Krruck. Raven was calling. I turned to my friend and smiled. I knew the bird had spotted a bear. I had been teaching my friend the ways of the forest and how to walk within it. The lesson this day was controllilng fear.
I assumed we would find the bears fishing along the river for salmon, so we slowly and softly tip-toed through my favorite forest, disappearing into our surroundings. The only trails to follow were made by generations of grizzly bears. We stepped in the giant bear tracks meandering through the thick, green moss carpeting the forest floor. It was impossible not to be touched by the spirit of the wilderness in this rare and beautiful place.
We came upon a tiny creek, hidden amongst the sword ferns. My firend was about 10 steps behind me, so I knelt down, cupped my hands and took a sip. I glanced up to meet the soft, brown eyes of a massive grizzly bear crouched down like me, droplets of water dripping from his mouth.
In that moment, time itself had changed, like it was suspended in an undreamed state of beauty and it was just me and a brown bear sharing this mutual moment of disbelief. How had we not seen each other? I could have reached out and touched his nose. Snaggletooth, for that was what I called him, is a 700lb grizzly bear and the rightful King of this Forest. He’s hard to miss.
His shiny black nose twitched and quivered with each rapid sniff he drew in. His fur glistened with the most beautiful radiance in the dappled light. I was spellbound in awe.
Then he stood up on his back feet, towering above me. I tilted my head to the sky with that jaw-dropping, eye-bluging look right before a scream, but instead, I found myself whispering, “You are so magnificent.” Fear lives not in this place of child-like wonder; it was as if the rules of the world ceased to exist.
He dropped down on all fours and I slowly started to stand. Huufff. He grunts. The moment of life and death breaks the silence. Gratefully, I knew how to speak bear. He’s just trying to figure out who I am. He doesn’t trust me yet and why should he?
I lowered my gaze and slowly turned to the side, showing him respect. He’s still eye-balling me, but his cute little Mickey Mouse ears are up, saying, “I’m not aggressive, just wondering what you’re going to do next,” so I take a few steps back. He does the same. I could still feel a bit of tension and then I remembered my friend. I hadn’t even thought about him until this point. I don’t think Snaggletooth did either. If he hadn’t fainted I hoped he was still mimicking my movements.
I tipped my head up just a little and our eyes locked again. I find my human language fumbles at describing the feeling of such an intimate and vulnerable encounter, it’s like we connected with a language older than words, as if our spirits recognized each other.
I took a deep breath and slowly let it out, as a ways of saying, “It’s ok big bear, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m just a berry eater like you.” Snaggletooth copied me. He took this big bear breath and I could hear his deep, grumply exhale. His whole body relaxed.
In typical bear fashion, he slowly turned around and nonchalantly ambled back towards the river to catch a fish. I followed behind until he disappeared into a salmonberry thicket.
