Something yelled at me today.

yelling-2

There many very scary things that populate the forest and cause a steady stream of anxiety and nervousness all the time. Spiders? Sure. Lots of spiders? Absolutely. Snakes? Always? Lots of snakes? It is guaranteed. Ghosts? Likely.

The list is unfathomably long and frustrating, and it makes me wonder how I, or any creature for that matter, manages to go about the forest on a daily basis without curling into a ball and weeping until all of the terror is gone even though the terror can never be gone so the curling and weeping would last indefinitely. I suppose it is something we have to accept and adapt to, but that does not make it any more pleasant.

At least when it comes to spiders and snakes and ghosts I get some kind of warning. I see the snake before I run from it. I feel the spider in my fur before I jump around and try to shake it off. I think I might be able to smell ghosts (not fully tested yet) before they go about their hauntings and whatnot. One of the more terrifying things about the forest does not give you sufficient advanced notice, however. It jumps at you and surprises you and makes everything feel terrible. It pierces your ears and ruins your relationship with whatever is the source of it. It is terrible and horrifying and I do not like it.

Being yelled at.

Nobody likes being yelled at, but that does not stop many things from yelling at many other things. I have been yelled at by trees, wind, humans, raccoons, opossums, falling rocks, snapping twigs, a very determined bee, and several pointy leaves.

I hate it.

And I never get used to it. It makes me feel small and helpless, and I immediately begin considering how I can not be yelled at. I run. I always run from yelling. It is the best option I know about, and, no matter how long I think about it, I cannot come up with a better way to handle being yelled at.

I have, for a very long time, figured that being the yeller must be pleasant. So many things yell at me, and they must all have a reason for doing so. They have to get something out of it.

I tried to yell at something today.

I did not know what to yell at. I did not want to yell at another creature or a tree or the sky because I did not want them to not like me and think I was angry at them or force them to try to eat me. So I decided that yelling at nothing was the best place for me to practice my yelling.

I sat in my dark cave. I stared at the darkness. The nothingness of it all. Here was a place to yell. Here was a place to let out a yell that had to have been boiling within, long awaiting to retaliate for all of the forceful yelling I had endured.

I let it out.

I yelled.

And then the cave yelled back and I whimpered and I ran and I have no idea if it was actually the cave or something inside the cave but either way I am not going back to my cave until daylight or until I know that the yelling will be stopped forever, please do not yell at me anymore cave, please, or whatever yelled at me, please, I am so sorry for yelling.

I am a bear.

If you would like to try being a bear, why not read some of the bear adventures available on this very site? 

For any questions or comments directed at Bear, feel free to write to him using this email: justasinglebear@gmail.com

You can also now use Tumblr to address questions to Bear. Also, you can find bear photos and such on Bear’s Instagram, and don’t forget to “like” Bear on the book of faces.

Things possibly related to something probably very important that I might have forgotten or maybe not.

raccoon-bag-2

What thing did I forget that is probably related to the following list of various things that might be the details of the thing I might have forgotten probably?

  • A dumpster
  • Muddy, slippery ground
  • I slipped in some mud?
  • Feelings of inadequate height
  • The dumpster might have been taller than I am, and I do not like that about dumpsters because they are very difficult to climb into?
  • At least one baby raccoon
  • A very ripped up blue plastic bag
  • The raccoon was maybe inside the very ripped up blue plastic bag?
  • Lots of screeching
  • So much screeching
  • It hurt my ears, I know that
  • The moon looking very judgmental
  • The moon did not say anything, I doubt, but it looked very judgmental probably
  • Handling very fragile things
  • Moving things with my teeth, which are not very good for handling very fragile things
  • Moving very fragile things with my teeth even though I know that handling very fragile things with my teeth is not a great idea
  • Maybe the bag was fragile?
  • Maybe the baby raccoon inside the bag was fragile?
  • Oh, there are faint memories or even more screeching
  • It is difficult to stress just how much screeching there was
  • The baby raccoon was definitely contributing to the screeching
  • I think wanting to find a place for something was involved, but I do not know
  • Finding a very warm place to rest my face in my cave because I wanted to be warm
  • But I always want to be warm?
  • I think I found the baby raccoon in the blue bag
  • I was definitely very hungry during all of whatever this was
  • But I am always very hungry?
  • I wanted to help the baby raccoon
  • And it was inside a plastic blue bag and screeched a lot
  • The moon was just so judgmental
  • Why were you so mad at me, moon? What had I done to you?
  • So maybe it was night
  • That seems reasonable
  • The screeching is in my mind, though
  • And that baby raccoon
  • Oh no
  • I remember now
  • I had to find a warm place for that baby raccoon I found in the dumpster because it was very clearly very upset about being inside the dumpster and I think I left the blue bag and the baby raccoon in my cave
  • Oh no, the bag is still in the corner of my cave but the baby raccoon is not
  • Um
  • There is no baby raccoon anywhere
  • I checked all around my cave
  • And all over the place
  • Um
  • Well
  • Oops
  • I hope it is okay
  • It is, right?

I am a bear.

If you would like to try being a bear, why not read some of the bear adventures available on this very site? 

For any questions or comments directed at Bear, feel free to write to him using this email: justasinglebear@gmail.com

You can also now use Tumblr to address questions to Bear. Also, you can find bear photos and such on Bear’s Instagram, and don’t forget to “like” Bear on the book of faces.

How to tell if you are a ghost and what you can do about if you are.

ghost-bear

Here is how you can tell you are a bear ghost and what you can do about it if you are:

  1. Examine your surroundings
  2. Ensure that your surroundings are as you generally perceive them on a regular basis
  3. If your surroundings seem as you generally perceive them, you are not a ghost bear
  4. If your surroundings seem strange or hazy or difficult to understand or leave you with a feeling like you have done something wrong that you deserve to face and understand, then ascertain that you are in your normal environment
  5. If you are not in your normal environment, the feelings mentioned previously might happen regardless of your state of ghostism (example: you might just feel bad because you woke up in a dumpster again)
  6. If you are in your normal environment and still feel the feelings mentioned previously then you must examine yourself
  7. If seeing your paws/fur/belly make you feel the same kind of dread mentioned previously regarding your environment, then your level of ghostliness is becoming very evident
  8. I made these rules up
  9. I made them up because I really do not know how to understand being a ghost and sometimes I think I might be a ghost
  10. I mean, I do not think being a ghost might be all that bad
  11. But I also do not know for sure that ghosts even exist
  12. Maybe they do not
  13. But maybe they do?
  14. Oh no, I have no idea
  15. I started this with such confidence, and I was certain that I knew what I was describing, but I really do not
  16. I have no idea what to do or say here
  17. I have to try again
  18. If you are a ghost, you can do things to help you not be a ghost
  19. Maybe
  20. Try not being a ghost?
  21. That makes no sense and works for nothing else
  22. You cannot just stop being a bear, you are always a bear
  23. I am a bear
  24. I am not a ghost
  25. I am really certain of it
  26. Now I am afraid that you do not believe me
  27. I promise you I am not a ghost
  28. Now I am more afraid of not being believed about my ghostism than I am of actually being a ghost
  29. I mean, if I am a ghost, then I do not mind being a ghost because I like being the whatever thing I happen to be right now
  30. But maybe being a ghost is actually terrible and I do not know because I am not a ghost
  31. I do not want to be a ghost
  32. Unless I am one already
  33. Please

I hope these instructions have helped you determine whether or not you are a ghost, and if you are a ghost, I hope you have more guidance for your general existence.

I am a bear.

If you would like to try being a bear, why not read some of the bear adventures available on this very site? 

For any questions or comments directed at Bear, feel free to write to him using this email: justasinglebear@gmail.com

You can also now use Tumblr to address questions to Bear. Also, you can find bear photos and such on Bear’s Instagram, and don’t forget to “like” Bear on the book of faces.

Sky tantrums.

sky tantrum

The forest and the sky above it can get very angry on occasion, the past few days have exhibited that anger a great deal. Furious winds swept through trees and pulled branches and leaves and sharp rain cut through the dirt of the forest floor, turning it into untraversable plots of gritty mud. From my experiences, this kind of sky tantrum is common when the temperature of the forest climbs down from its summer tower and begins to calm itself leading into the more humble autumn. I have been through a great deal of sky tantrums myself, and I know all creatures in the forest have their own ways of handling these events.

Most creatures, particularly the tinnier ones, tend to hide under logs, rocks, human caves, dumpsters, and other creatures to protect them from the unnecessary anger of the wind. How birds carry themselves through sky tantrums is a bit of a mystery. I have never seen a bird successfully fly during one, but I also rarely see them perched among trees, their alternative to their routine flying. Maybe they hide with the other creatures? Maybe all birds crash into trees during these sometimes terrifying acts of the forest and then new birds are born from the remains the very next day? I hope that is not the case. That would be strange/scary.

I like to walk through it for as long as I can. I squint my eyes and grit my teeth and dig my claws into the ground as I make one laborious step after another. It feels refreshing to do this right after a blazing summer day, and there is something freeing about letting the rushing wind toss through my fur, despite knowing that at any moment that same wind could turn on me and hurt me.

That actually happened during this particular sky tantrum. The wind carried a very large, very pointy, very unsafe branch from a tree and hurled it directly at my face/ears/nose. It was not a pleasant feeling, and, for the briefest of moments, I thought I had met my end to the vengeful acts of the violent wind (I certainly do not blame the branch as it must have been just as terrifying for it to be carried so forcefully by the wind). It hurt, and as soon as I processed what was going on and realized that I was still a bear and not no longer a bear, I galloped back to my cave. I carried the branch with me. I was certain it, too, needed protection. From there, I rested on a cold rock and watched the water from the rain continue to attack the forest floor throughout the night, occasionally gnawing at my guest branch, which might have been rude but I never asked. It would be fun to nap in some of the puddles tomorrow, I thought to myself, and then I continued to chew on the branch.

I am a bear.

If you would like to try being a bear, why not read some of the bear adventures available on this very site? 

For any questions or comments directed at Bear, feel free to write to him using this email: justasinglebear@gmail.com

You can also now use Tumblr to address questions to Bear. Also, you can find bear photos and such on Bear’s Instagram, and don’t forget to “like” Bear on the book of faces.

How to find, approach, and handle human caves.

human cave (2)

How to find, approach, and handle human caves:

  • Begin by finding where a human smell is coming from (dumpsters are good places to start)
  • Follow human smell (again, dumpsters and humans have many aromas in common)
  • Once a human smell is pinpointed, assess the area
  • You will likely see a large structure made out of rocks or mutilated trees, these are human caves
  • Instead of being inside of something like most caves, human caves have many sides, making finding an entrance difficult
  • Follow the sides of the human cave until you happen upon a more decorated mutilated tree (humans probably hate trees (there is no way to tell why (maybe trees did something mean to them)))
  • Begin scratching, clawing, biting, pressing heaviest side of body against the decorated mutilated tree
  • Repeat until decorated mutilated tree is ajar or
  • I broke the decorated mutilated tree
  • I hope the humans do not mind
  • Upon entering a human cave, begin searching for more smells similar to dumpsters
  • These smells are generally found in another tiny cave that is cold and kept inside the human cave (a cave within a cave)
  • Repeat decorated mutilated tree process to second tiny cave to gain entrance
  • Once tiny cave inside large human cave is here, begin eating things that are causing dumpster smells and all other smells that are also interesting to you
  • Ignore the sounds of aggressive stepping as you continue eating from the tiny second cave, they probably belong to a jealous raccoon
  • Ow
  • Please
  • Stop throwing things at me
  • Please
  • Ow
  • Ouch
  • Ooooooo
  • My ears
  • Please
  • That thing was pointy
  • Begin to leave the premises of the second tiny cave if a human seems aggravated by your perusal of it
  • Sit on this comfortable, lumpy soft thing instead
  • Ow
  • Please
  • Humans do not like it when you sit on their comfortable lumpy things either
  • Consider leaving the human cave upon the appearance of humans
  • Why
  • I am leaving, please stop
  • Ow
  • Try to fix the mutilated decorated tree you broke when you entered the human cave
  • It seems very heavy
  • Ow
  • Humans might hit you with more and different types of mutilated trees (pole one with straws on it hurts)
  • Try to reason with humans if they get too hostile
  • Why would they keep throwing things at me when I am simply trying to explain to them that I did not mean to break their mutilated decorated tree entrance
  • Consider complimenting the humans for having a cave that smells like a dumpster (very high praise)
  • Ouch
  • The last thing they threw sounded sharp
  • Leave
  • Leave the human cave
  • They clearly do not want you there
  • They are running after you
  • Run
  • Go back to your cave and sleep on the collection of mold covered rocks you have that do not smell like a dumpster but are still very nice to be around
  • Do not approach or handle or even find human caves

I am a bear.

If you would like to try being a bear, why not read some of the bear adventures available on this very site? 

For any questions or comments directed at Bear, feel free to write to him using this email: justasinglebear@gmail.com

You can also now use Tumblr to address questions to Bear. Also, you can find bear photos and such on Bear’s Instagram, and don’t forget to “like” Bear on the book of faces.

Birds and their shadows and the tricks they play.

bird eating me (2)

Shadows are an insane mystery in the forest. I know pretty much everything has a shadow, and I know that, generally, that shadow relates to the sun in terms of where it is when you see it, but I have no idea why they are there and what they are planning. For a long time, I was convinced that it was possible to fall inside of them (this came from a misunderstanding I had during a brief encounter with a mole). That is not the case, though. They just make some parts of whatever they are resting upon (the ground, other things, your face) darker for no real reason.

If you pay attention to shadows, though, they can help you manage your awareness of your immediate surroundings. That can be helpful. There have been many times where someone was trying to sneak past me and into my cave to probably take my collection of mold covered rocks, and I caught them because of the elongated shadow that was hurled from them onto the rocky floor. My collection of mold covered rocks owes a lot to shadows. That might be why they exist in general: to help protect my lovely rocks.

Not everyone in the forest uses shadows for good, though. I have, on far too many occasions, accidentally thought the shadow of a bird was something much larger than a bird that was definitely planning on eating me. I do not want to be eaten. Ever. So when I see something that seems like it might want to eat me, I do what any creature probably does when that threat hovers over them: I ran, the whole time staring at the thing that probably wanted to eat me, and crashed into a tree.

Each time this scenario has played out, I have looked all around only to find that a bird in the sky was casting the shadow onto the ground from up high. I know I should have learned my lesson by now, but it is hard to think rationally when you are completely convinced that something is going to eat you.

I do not think it is the same bird, either, as when I have looked up to see the bird playing such a cruel trick against me, it has always been a different color. This has forced me to consider if this is some kind of collaborative ruse crafted by a hateful group of birds. If so, what do they want from me and why do they want it and why can they not find some other way to hurt my feelings other than to make me feel like I am about to be eaten?

I have tried asking a bird, but I have never gotten an answer that did not involve the senseless chirping they are so known for.

For now, when I see a shadow, I have to assume the worst possible scenario: something wants to eat me. If I do not, then something might catch me off guard and actually eat me. Perhaps birds are trying to eat me?

Have birds grown so hostile and bold?

Should I stop making fun of their chirping sounds and accidentally sitting in their nests because they are so comfortable?

Please do not eat me, birds.

Please.

I am a bear.

If you would like to try being a bear, why not read some of the bear adventures available on this very site? 

For any questions or comments directed at Bear, feel free to write to him using this email: justasinglebear@gmail.com

You can also now use Tumblr to address questions to Bear. Also, you can find bear photos and such on Bear’s Instagram, and don’t forget to “like” Bear on the book of faces.

The deer across the river pushed me into the river.

The deer across the river pushed me into the river.

deer evil (2)

I did not actually see this happen, but I am absolutely sure it was him. Who else could act so aggressively and maliciously against everything that I am? I do not mind being in the water, but to be suddenly (and without my consent) placed into the river? No. That is not good, and I do not like it, and I am so very angry at the deer across the river and how vile of a creature he truly is.

I am sorry.

I do not mean to come off so flustered, but this was a very bad experience for me. I smelled an interesting and strange smell coming from what was probably a bug or a leaf or maybe a neat rock across the river where I usually get water and look at my reflection. It was coming from where the deer across the river usually stands, mocking me with his knowing glances and horrible demeanor. Against my best interests, I decided to go to the interesting smell. I knew the risk: the deer could be there at any moment, and surely an experience with him would be incredibly upsetting. I liked the smell of whatever was there, though, and I was willing to risk a chance encounter with the deer to smell such a lovely smell up close.

I swam across the river and climbed onto the ground. My paws got muddy as I hurled my wet nose into the soil, searching for the smell I had caught from across the river. I followed the lovely aroma to a tree that leaned toward the river. On one of the lowest branches of the tree sat a bug. I climbed to it, ignoring the tiny cracks of the tree that begged me not to. I told myself I would not spend too much time on the tree, so the cracking sounds could be ignored. I breathed in heavily to fill the insides of my bearness with the smell of this fascinating bug. I did this for awhile, and I was not interrupted by the deer during this crucial smelling experience (at least I can thank him for that, I suppose).

The bug flew away eventually. When it did, It was time to go back to my side of the river, and I cautiously climbed back down to the ground, trying not to bend the branch anymore than I already had. I was surprised the deer was not around yet, but I accepted my luck and approached the river.

Right as I tossed my first paw forward toward the water, I felt a rough jab against my backside. I slipped on the muddy ground and catapulted toward the river. With an embarrassing, enormous splash, I crashed into the water. My ears were instantly filled with water and anger as I desperately paddled my front paws to get to the surface. I knew who was behind this villainous act before my snout got to fresh forest air. The deer across the river. He stood where I had fallen. Beside him laid a broken branch. Surely it was his weapon of choice to commit this atrocity. He had even chosen the branch I had used to comfortably enjoy the smells of a new bug/possible friend. It was cruel. I made desperate growling sounds toward him as he puffed out his lips and made whatever you call the awful sounds deer make when they make sounds (it sounds like coughing but somehow more sickly and depressing).

I got back to my side of the river. I stared at him until my fur began to dry. I wanted him to apologize for what he did, though I knew that would be impossible. I would settle for an admission to guilt, but I never got one. After some more hacking/coughing, the deer walked away. He left his weapon behind.

I am a bear.

If you would like to try being a bear, why not read some of the bear adventures available on this very site? 

For any questions or comments directed at Bear, feel free to write to him using this email: justasinglebear@gmail.com

You can also now use Tumblr to address questions to Bear. Also, you can find bear photos and such on Bear’s Instagram, and don’t forget to “like” Bear on the book of faces.