Tag Archives: humor

What if I am the last bear?

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last-bear1

I have not seen another bear in a long time, and my total bear sightings is really quite small (unless you count times I have seen myself (which actually sometimes leads to me thinking I am seeing another bear (which is scary))). Of course, the most likely of scenarios is that the forest is much much larger than I could ever even fathom, so the bears are out there just not around me.

Still…

I worry…

What if I am the last bear?

The thought has kept me restless many a night in my cave. I stare at the black, pointy wall of my cave and wonder how similar it must be to the future of bearness and bears in general… Bleak and… pointy. I am not sure what that could mean, but it scares me.

Even though I am just one, single bear, I often feel like I have more to contribute to the forest in general. Surely there is forest or bear wisdom I can pass down to other bears or even other creatures of the forest. How will anyone ever learn my perfected technique of rubbing my fur in leaves until it is has the balanced amount of fuzziness? Surely someone in the forest, especially a younger bear, could benefit from such knowledge. If I were to perish (probably by deer) without sharing this knowledge, and I am truly the last bear, what would happen to that information? Where would it go? Would it venture off to wherever I would go? Would it fill the empty space between the trees in the forest, waiting to be learned by some willing and interested creature? Would it just stop being?

If I am the last bear, then is there even a point to my personal continued bearness? Do I even need to be a bear if my legacy of being a bear stops with me? I like being a bear (though I do not have any basis of comparison, to be honest), but something about being the final bear of all bears upsets me. It makes me wonder if I am what all bears before me were leading up to or if those bears before me even cared. Maybe they all thought they were the last bears at some point. Maybe they just kept being bears because that was what they knew how to do. To be bears.

I am sure it is just some strange anxiety that is coiled at the base of my bear head somewhere that keeps this idea alive. The chances of me being the final bear seem low. There have to be more bears out there. I am sure. Maybe.

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 Facebook.

Here is a list of things I found (and maybe just thought I found?) while digging in the snow.

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snow-bear-2

Here is a list of things I found (and maybe just thought I found?) while digging in the snow the past few days:

  • Rocks (many rocks in many different shapes and many different sizes and I ate about three)
  • Very sad looking grass (I ate about three)
  • Frozen rabbit skeleton (tried to chew on but hurt mouth)
  • Leaves (sad looking (I ate about three)
  • More snow (so much (where does it all come from/go?)
  • Ice (licked for a very long time, regretfully)
  • Less snow (this was a strange turn of events)
  • A can
  • Another can
  • A third can
  • There have been far too many cans
  • What I thought was a fourth can but actually turned out to be another rock (again, many rocks)
  • Part of a plastic shovel that did not do a good job being a shovel maybe
  • Part of a rodent tail (not Rob (the squirrel)’s, thankfully)
  • An apple?
  • Nope, not an apple
  • I do not know what that was
  • It was definitely not an apple
  • Whatever it was upset my stomach
  • A good place to take a nap
  • A bad place to take a nap
  • More ice (licking occurred again)
  • Twigs that are frozen solid (reserved for chewing at a later date)
  • Very flat leaves
  • What looks like deer fur
  • Wait…
  • Where is he?
  • The deer across the river?
  • Where?
  • He has been here, has he not?
  • Maybe he did not survive the storm
  • There is more fur…
  • …but not enough to make me believe the deer across the river met his demise
  • He is somewhere nearby
  • I can almost smell him
  • I found the river
  • The river is mostly ice
  • I do not see any fish
  • I do not see the deer
  • Did the deer abscond with all the fish?
  • Why would he do this?
  • Because he knows I like fish, that is why
  • I will wait for him to return
  • …
  • …
  • …
  • I fell asleep?
  • He has not returned
  • Dumpster snow
  • An actual apple
  • So many apples
  • Why are there so many apples in this snowy dumpster
  • I will eat them
  • The deer
  • These are my apples
  • Please
  • Leave me alone
  • What a horrible sound
  • Why do you make this sound?
  • How?
  • Running
  • Forever running
  • I do not like the snow

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 Facebook.

I fell down a hill.

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falling-down-a-hill-2

I fell down a hill and into some very pointy and angry and horrible vines and sticks and forest debris. My paws were carefully stepping down the falling forest floor. I do not remember where my paws were taking me or why, but I do remember the feeling of my front paws slipping and sliding and pulling the rest of my body with them as my belly slammed into the ground, my fuzzy fur collecting the chunks of dirt and dislodged tree roots all around.

The wind fought my eyes as I slid. It took the chunks of dirt and dislodged tree roots from my belly fuzz and hurled them toward my face. I was blinded for a moment, so I was not ready for the full force of my entire me slamming into a mound of everything pointy the forest had to offer. Vines with little prickly things on them. Sticks broken on every end. The sharpest, worst rocks. So many pointy things. Things I have no words for other than pointy and angry.

There is a lapse in my memory. Maybe it was because I could not see. Maybe I was thinking of something better than where and what I was right then and there. Maybe I napped? It is a very real possibility that I napped for awhile. What I do remember is feeling the struggle of trying to get out of the vicious pile of hatred I had slid into. I remember trying to wiggle my paws and my belly as I used all of the energy I could muster to pick myself up and not be in the vicious pile of hatred I was stuck in.

The vines twirled around my paws. The sticks were poking through my fur. Something (maybe something alive) got stuck in my nose until I violently sneezed it out. For a moment, I do remember this, I knew I was going to be stuck in that horrible prison of forest leftovers forever. I even briefly considered accepting it, closing my eyes, and napping until all the painful little bits that held me down evaporated.

I did not, though. I began to bite and claw and make little growling sounds I had never heard myself make before. I kept fighting at the things that held me until I felt myself coming free. Finally, I wrestled it all away from me. I got on all four of my paws and ran away from it all. I kept running until my paws hurt too much to keep going, which was not very far. I was still able to see the miserable pile. I had gotten over it. I was free. I sat for a moment, catching my breath, staring at what I had escaped. It was not easy, but I had gotten through it.

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 Facebook.

To stay warm, use the warmth of others.

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warmth-2

The forest can get cold. Sporadically cold. The coldness of the forest can be unpredictable and angry. Avoiding the cold is important. Being cold is almost as bad as being hungry, and it is not nearly as simple to avoid as hunger. Hungry? Put a thing that is food in your belly. Cold? The solutions are much more complex.

Often, I hope being in my cave is an easy way to avoid being cold, but that is simply not the case. The cold, rough surface of my cave floor is unwelcoming and vicious toward my defenseless belly (even with its lovely, fuzzy fur). My cave sends me out into the forest, seeking better places for warmth.

Human caves seem, as I have discussed numerous times, welcoming and warm but are absolutely not welcoming. They are warm, though. The few times I have managed to enter a human cave have been incredibly warm. That warmth is always cutoff by shouting, though, so it is, in a terrible kind of way, worse to experience it since it is so quickly snatched away.

Human caves sometimes have metal things behind them that have bursting little suns in them. I have no idea why humans simply keep these little suns in metal things near their caves, but they are incredibly warm and incredibly dangerous. I have ruined the fuzziness of my fur by accident on these little sun things many times. How can something be so warm but also so angry? That is just how the sun works, in my experience. It will bake fur to a comfy temperature right before leaving red marks on the skin beneath.

Warmth can be hard to come by. I almost always end up back in my cave, having exhausted the potential warmth outside of it. Recently I got to my cave and found three raccoons, a very small opossum, and maybe a squirrel (it was hard to see so it could have been a bundle of tails, who knows) huddled in the corner, their trembling little bodies pressed up against sharp rock of the cave wall. They did not move as I got closer. I slumped beside them and aimed my belly toward them. I scooted closer. One raccoon bit me, but I was not offended. I settled into the corner with them, and their little warm bodies made my belly fur feel comfortable and at ease. I hope they felt the same way, but I had no way of knowing. When I woke, they were gone. We kept one another warm for awhile and then went on about our ways and days. I hope they come back when it gets cold again.

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 Facebook.

I ate some colorful, sharp berries.

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lights-2

Human caves.

They are very strange. I have mentioned how strange they are on numerous occasions. How they look approachable but foster dens of shouting and unpleasantness. How they have accessible dumpster locations that seem terrific until the shouting begins. How there is just so much shouting at them.

Human caves.

I do not like the shouting, obviously, but that has never stopped me from approaching and exploring human caves. There are just too many reasons to engage with human caves to avoid them completely, so I found myself very close to one very recently. This time it was what appeared to be a collection of very expressive berries that brought me to this human cave.

I was wandering around the forest, searching for food and nice rocks when the shine of a bush by a human cave caught my eye. It was so bright. So hypnotic. So enticing. I approached it with caution (as I always do with human caves), but no amount of apprehension could keep me from getting to these strange little bright berries on this bush. They blinked. Quickly and without reason. I had to see them up close.

When I got to the bush, I sniffed the bright little things. They smelled like the bush itself, which was odd. I had assumed that shiny berries would have a special, shiny scent to them, but they did not. I then decided to lick the berries. Again, they tasted like the scrawny, bare limbs of the plant they rested upon.

They were warm, though. As my nose got closer and closer to a single one, I felt its warmth. I wanted that warmth all over my fur. I wanted to bury myself into the bare twigs of the bush and bask in the warmth of these strange little berries.

So I climbed into the bush and let my weight plunge into the tiny, warm berries. It felt nice. So I napped there for a bit. I have no idea how long, but no human shouting ever tried to stop me, so I felt no rush to sprint away from where I was.

When I did wake up, I studied the berries again. Scentless but warm. Bright and oddly pointy. I had to know what they tasted like. So, I nibbled on a bright green one. Its soothing hue blinked against my tongue and cheek. I must have had a green mouth for a brief moment. That was probably interesting to see. Anyway, I bit the little thing. And then these berries were suddenly not so great or warm or pleasant. They hurt. Tiny, sharp bits of glass covered my mouth. I spit it out as best I could, but the shattered chunks of the angry berry were all around my teeth and saliva. I did what I thought I had to do: I ran away. It did not help, but it felt right. It was the first time something other than shouting drove me away from a human cave.

These berries were likely just defending themselves (something I had never seen before), so I can only get but so upset with what happened. My mouth still hurts, but at least I got to be warm and green-mouthed.

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 Facebook.

Here are some things I had time to consider as I fell from a tree I climbed.

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time-bear-2

Things I had time to consider as I fell from a tree I climbed:

  • The wind seemed very sharp
  • The ground looked so soft from up high
  • The branch that I thought was interesting looking from below was not nearly as interesting looking when I got to it
  • No amount of arm flapping would cause me to fly
  • Though I certainly tried
  • Why do I not get to fly?
  • I do not think birds should get to fly when most of the rest of us do not, it is strange and does not seem fair
  • But birds do not have front legs or paws or fur, so maybe flying was their trade-off?
  • The size of the sky does not seem to change while falling
  • The size of the ground does definitely seem to change while falling
  • Moments of tremendous unease seem to last a very long time, which is, again, a very strange and not very fair thing that happens no matter what, always
  • When moments like that stretch out, I am forced to linger on the thoughts and actions that made the moment difficult to begin with
  • And I have to, in a way, relive an awful thing while the awful thing is happening for what feels like a forever
  • I do not like that and it does not seem fair
  • Because even if I get all the time that is possible to have to think about one particular thing, I will be unable to change it or alter it or even really stop it from clouding my thoughts, so I am being forced by some unknown thing to sit and stare at myself inside me forever even as the ground gets closer and closer to my snout
  • The number of leaves I would likely fall onto
  • Which looked to be about ten?
  • Which was not enough leaves to constitute a safe or even mildly comfortable landing
  • That maybe trees do not like me?
  • Which is why I am often falling from them or things on them are falling from them and landing on me?
  • A very brief, fleeting moment of nothing right before my paws endure the shock of beginning my landing
  • Which was actually nice
  • And very relaxing

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 Facebook.

I saw a dirt-covered seagull.

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seagull-2

Seagulls are rare in my part of the forest, but when I get deeper into the forest, past the clumps of trees I normally reside in and to the slabs of flat rocks and human caves, I sometimes run into a seagull. The last time I saw a seagull, it stared at me as it stood next to a few crows, chewing on some plastic bits it had fished out of a dumpster. It was a strange experience. It was missing feathers and had a twisted leg. It looked okay with both of those things. The bird’s dark, beady eyes glared at me while its empty face consumed its catch. I envied it, to be honest, as it so openly, without any indication of shame for its seemingly awful state of being, enjoyed a nice dumpster snack.

I saw another seagull today. I was trying to climb into a dumpster when it swooped from the sky (as birds with their aggressive nature tend to do) and landed on the corner of the dumpster I was climbing. My front paws were inside, but I stopped and stared at the seagull as the last seagull I saw had stared at me. It stared back. It was covered in dirt. Brown and grey crud covered its crooked feathers. Mud rested on its neck, dried and flaking off with every little movement it made. Its eyes were just as beady and as dark as any seagull I had ever seen.

I am not sure how long we stared at one another, but eventually the seagull broke the spell and flew off. I shook my head and tried to snap back into my reality. I climbed into the dumpster I was climbing into and did what I normally do in dumpsters: enjoyed myself with some scavenging and a long nap.

When I climbed out, the seagull was on the ground to greet me. I had no idea if it was the same seagull, but it was definitely covered in dirt and it smelled similar. My head was poking out of the dumpster, my paws hanging over the edge, when its glare stopped me as it had before. It was standing in a very thick, dark liquid. Confidently. Maybe proudly. We stared at one another again. This seagull was so unashamed just to be. I do not know how it did that. I have always been nervous to be. Being has always worried me, plagued my thoughts and forced me to rethink my being. I doubted this seagull even knew it was. Did this seagull even care that it was? That it existed? I was hard to tell.

It dipped its long, strange beak into the liquid, slurped some of it, and flew away.

This seagull was fine with being what it was.

I tried licking the black liquid after the seagull was gone and I had climbed out of the dumpster.

It burned and made me very upset.

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 Facebook.

I think I might be lost.

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a-path-2

I might be lost. I think so, anyway. I am not sure. I started to walk away from my cave earlier today, and my thoughts began to drift toward images of sticks and garbage bags filled with sauce covered napkins and that time a rabbit looked at me and I did not know what to do. Before I could even begin to process where my paws were dragging me, I was gone. I had no idea where I was or where I had been.

And now I am lost.

When I look around where I am, I can remember bits and pieces of it. Some of the leaves look familiar. Some of the air smells like air I have smelled before. There is even a very interesting looking stick that I am quite sure I have seen and assessed as very interesting looking in the past.

I do not know where I am, however. That I am sure of: I am not sure where I am. As I let my paws do the walking and my thoughts do the drifting again, I begin to think why I even need to know where I am right now. Sure, I have a cave I can go to and it is safe and a place I know and a place I like to be near, but other than that, what good is it for me to know where I am right now or any other time? Not much of being a bear hinges on that information. I can still eat (even as I walk aimlessly I can see the bushels of berries and mounts of dirt to consume). I can still find the river (it is large and is always easy to find, and maybe the new spot I find will not have the deer across the river near it (unless the deer across the river is always across the river (which I would not put past him))). I can still be a bear.

I can probably be a bear no matter where I am. The place where I am being a bear does not affect my bearness, or at least I do not have any previous experience to refute that idea. No matter where I am, I am a bear.

My feet are still wandering, and so are my thoughts. And nothing seems familliar anymore as they each go their own direction. So maybe being lost is not such a bad thing. I am generally afraid of being lost. I often get worried and anxious when I am unsure of where I am, but this time, my relaxation comes with ease. I do not mind, in this moment, not knowing where I am. I do not mind not knowing where my paws are dragging me.

Until I think about where I might be going. That actually does make me anxious. What if I get dragged to a new place where I cannot be a bear? Is that possible? What if my paws are working against me to take me to some place where being a bear is unfavored and I have to be a something else?

I do not know where I am going.

Until my paws take me right back to my cave. When I take control of them again, I am at my cave. My paws took me there. I still feel lost, so I curl into a ball in the blackness of my cave, and I nap. And I hope I do not feel lost when I wake up.

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 Facebook.

A series of bearkus describing how the forest might not care about anything, a bear. I am a bear.

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forest-discontent

Yesterday was warm
The sun being so angry
Miserable day

But today is cold
I can see my body air
Miserable day

The undecided:
does the forest have a plan?
Or does chaos reign?

Do birds feel this too?
Those harsh, sharpened winds up there?
No, birds feel nothing.

Does the forest care
that it causes so much pain?
I really doubt it.

And what does it want?
To make us feel unwanted?
In need of new homes?

Can the forest care?
It could be indifferent.
Uninterested.

So what can I do?
But just hide inside my cave?
And wait for normal?

I’ll bury my nose
into the warmth of cave moss
and hope I can nap.

Because napping helps
and keeps me ever hopeful
it will be okay.

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.

When rubbing your belly on something soft does not work.

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forest-anger-2

The forest can be a very dangerous, confusing, wild place sometimes. Despite everything the forest gives and provides for me and other creatures, it can still be an absolutely difficult and terrifying place to spend the entirety of existence in. The screeching. The getting lost. The harsh winds. The bitter cold. The damp floor. The sharp sticks. The angry sun. The other creatures trying to eat me maybe but not actually. The dangers are numerous and severe, constantly present no matter where in the forest I go.

It is a part of forest life, and, for the most part, it is possible to adjust to it. Though forest living can be tense, it only takes time to learn how to avoid or process most troubles that it can hurl. And for the ones that are unavoidable? There are ways to cope. I prefer to rub my belly on the soft forest floor when I feel overwhelmed by the chaos of living in the forest. The leaves feel good against my fur, and the cool dirt soothes my belly as much as a good meal does. It is truly relaxing, and I highly recommend it for enduring the daily stresses of living in the forest.

Sometimes, though, the forest gets too difficult for simple belly rubs. Sometimes the screeching is particularly deafening. Sometimes the food is scarcer than usual. Sometimes the winds are sharper than usual and the sun is angrier than usual. Sometimes all of the difficulties of living in the forest attack at once, making it impossible to feel any kind of peace in a given day.

The forest can be unforgiving. The forest can be mean. Sometimes it feels like the forest takes all of its anger and chaos and aims just at me for a single moment, and I become paralyzed by everything bad it has to offer. Sometimes, I wake up in my cave, and I know the day will be one of those paralyzing chaos days. And I know no amount of forest floor belly rubbing will help me. It cannot be ignored, either. If I do not face the terrors of the forest, they will come creeping into my cave looking for me. Even if they do so just through my thinking, they somehow manage to find me every single time.

When it feels like the forest is completely focused on making my existence a struggle, I first remind myself that I am not the only one. It can be hard to remember that. I am a bear, so I mostly do and think and stick to bear things, and I can get lost in those bear things. I am not the only thing in the forest, though, and the forest is far crueler to many other creatures than it is to me. Tiny birds, for example. Imagine how those sharp winds that bother me so much must feel to them? They must go through the same feelings of dread and confusion when those horrible gusts begin howling throughout the forest, probably even more so than I do. If anything, I should be protecting tiny birds from the wind (though the last time I did I ended up accidentally eating a nest).

I also remember that the forest will keep doing what it is doing forever and ever, even when I am no longer a bear in the forest. The forest is indifferent toward me and how upset I am at it sometimes. No amount of belly rubs on the forest floor will change that, so I have to learn how to handle whatever the forest wants to attack me with. I do not have a choice in that matter. I either face the forest’s wrath or I sit in my cave away from everything until I am not a bear anymore (and I like being a bear, so I do not want to do that).

Sometimes the forest will win, however. The forest will make me feel terrible and I will sit in my cave and even consider staying there until I am not a bear (even though I really like being a bear), I am not sure what to do during times like those, but I will continue to at least try to not let the forest get the best of me when it is after me.

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.