Tag Archives: nature

When rubbing your belly on something soft does not work.

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.

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I would like to change colors, too, you know.

I smashed the scary pumpkins because they probably had ghosts in them.

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I like to stroll through the forest when the winds begin to cause cool breezes and the temperature becomes a nice kind of chill. It is a relaxing way to spend time in the forest, and such temperature and winds seem to only exist briefly between the anger of the sun and stunning cold of the snow. It is not here for long, so I like to enjoy it as much as I can. Sometimes my strolls go a bit far, however. It is easy to lose track where I am and how long I have been spending to get there. Recently, the stroll led to that strange part of the forest where the long, flat black rocks start to appear, cushioned by many human caves and far less trees. It is a strange place, and I try not to go there often (mostly because of all the yelling), but just today, I found myself happily traversing the strange area.

I should have run away when I first saw the pumpkin. I know that now, but something about its smell and its orangeness made me want to see it closer. There were so many of them around this part of the forest, too. I thought it was strange, and I thought it was stranger that all of these pumpkins had been mutilated. Holes had been cut into their thick skin (imagine what kind beast it would take to do that with such precision and power!). The first one I saw was very close to a human cave. I approached it, smelled it, and then tried to see what was inside of it (obviously). I pushed my paw through the holes that were already there, and, strangely enough, it was completely empty. There was nothing inside. I chewed on the thick skin of the pumpkin as I pondered the possibility. Why was this pumpkin empty? Were they always so empty? I had definitely seen pumpkins that were not empty before (mostly in dumpsters), so why was there nothing in this one?

I thought I should go see what other pumpkins nearby were like. There were so many to choose from.

The next one was not empty. I could see it from far away as I stood still on the long, flat black rock, staring at the strange glow coming from the pumpkin. I crept towards it. I had to know why it was glowing. Was there a tiny sun inside? It looked like the same color from a distance. Was the pumpkin angry? That was certainly possible.

When I got a paw’s length away, I batted at the pumpkin. I was cautious. Then, I decided to look through one of the strange holes it had, where the light was shining from.

Inside was a tiny ball of light.

It was bright.

It was scary.

I growled at it as I hurled my paw at it. Clearly, this pumpkin had some kind of pumpkin ghost sitting inside of it, and it was definitely trying to scare me. I smashed the pumpkin with my paws until a human ran out of its cave, yelling at me and swatting a long stick with pine straws on it at me. I tried to tell the human that I was just saving it and its cave from a pumpkin ghost, but the human refused to hear my pleas. It continued to swat at me until I left.

I ran back to my cave. I knew I had done the right thing, even if who it was for could not appreciate 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 the book of faces.

Follow @a_single_bear

The acorns were not mine.

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When my belly is shouting at me to tend to it, using pain and anger to fuel my every decision, I cannot help but to eat nearly everything that comes into my sight. I have eaten some strange things, things that did not seem like food until I proved they were food. Crumpled leaves, fish skulls, anthills (including the ants sometimes), the wind (when it cooperates), things caught in the wind, basically everything inside any dumpster ever, sometimes the edges or corners of dumpsters, a bird once (more by accident and it was technically something that was caught in the wind (sorry, bird)). My mouth guides me on these occasions, and I become a furry ball of fury and teeth, claiming all chewable things as my meals.

Then I calm down.

It always happens.

I go off the edge while the hunger infects my very being, and then I fulfill whatever intangible thing causes me to be such a way, and then I calm down. Usually, when I calm down, I can look around, see the leftovers of the dumpster I was in, and move on with what happened. I ate some plastic bags filled with a dark liquid that smelled like burning? That is okay, I will move on. Oh, the tree I climb is missing a limb and my teeth hurt? That is okay, I will move on.

I was not able to move on recently.

I found a small cluster of acorns not very long ago. They were covered in leaves and pine needles and bits of dirt and my future shame and self-loathing. I smelled them from my cave. The wonderfully intoxicating aroma did not take long to pinpoint. With a small swipe of the claw, I was able to reveal the acorns. They were beautiful. They were delicious looking. They were delicious looking.

Without thinking, I hurled my jaws over the acorns and began to gobble them through my teeth and tongue and spit. In groups of two and three, I would go into the pile and further diminish the acorn reserve.

I ate them all.

When I calmed down, when I ceased to be the monster that I can so easily become, I realized that those acorns were not my acorns. That is probably true of most of the things I eat, of course. The dumpsters are not mine. The wind is not mine. The anthill is not mine. But something about this acorn collection, the way it was gathered so neatly and so beautifully, the way so many leaves and pine needles were so delicately placed and organized, it forced me to know they were not mine.

Someone was saving these acorns.

Someone was probably saving these acorns for when the hunger, the vicious, angry little beast that it can be, would infest their being. And when it happens to them, they will not have the comfort of an acorn reserve to soothe them.

Who knows what they might do.

I might have made a monster.

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.

Follow @a_single_bear

Special dumpster days.

Something happened to the eggs I found.

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Today, I found some little eggs and put them on a soft pile of dirt and stuff in my cave and put leaves on top of them for warmth. I liked them all. They were all very similar looking but somehow also all unique in their own ways. I spent the day watching over the eggs, studying their tiny, minute differences and trying to understand where they were from and where they were going. I also named them. Trashcan was the one with the tiny scratch mark on the bottom half of the oval. Pinecone was, in my opinion, the pointiest one. And Tree was the most charismatic one.

I liked all of the eggs I found, and I had a great day getting to know them until very recently when something very terrible happened to them.

I had left my cave for awhile to enjoy the cool winds that were gliding through the forest. After letting my fur get a nice puffy aesthetic, I decided to go back to my cave to check in on my new responsibilities.

That is how seriously I was taking getting to know my eggs. See? I even called them my eggs. I expected these eggs to be a crucial part of life, even after having known them for just a morning. I had plans and visions of me taking care of them and ensuring their egg-ness for as long as eggs happen to be eggs. I was excited. I was looking forward to my life with the eggs.

When I got back to my cave, one was broken.

Trashcan was split asunder, his top bits spread about the tiny nest I had made. His gooey innards were spread about the nest. I was horrified.

My initial investigation led me to a theory involving ghosts. Nothing else made sense. But then Pinecone began to tremble. The ghosts were about to strike again, I initially thought.

Before I could ask Pinecone what was wrong, a bird swooped into my cave. It shrieked at me and pecked at my eyes and bit me and made me really upset. Then the bird grasped Pinecone and flew off.

I was so traumatized by what was going on that when I looked at Tree, it took a moment to realize that she, too, was trembling and shaking violently. I sat, shaken from the loss, and stared at Tree.

A tiny, featherless bird burst through the egg, sending shards of egg all about the nest. It made weak sounding chirps.

I knew then that I was fooling myself by coveting the eggs and hoping they would never do what eggs always do: burst into tiny birds and reptiles.

The large bird swooped in once more. With less pecking and shrieking, it grabbed Tree’s innards (a tiny bird) and flew away.

I have had a difficult, weird day.

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.

Follow @a_single_bear

Something yelled at me today.

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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.

Follow @a_single_bear

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

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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.

Follow @a_single_bear

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

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

Examine your surroundings
Ensure that your surroundings are as you generally perceive them on a regular basis
If your surroundings seem as you generally perceive them, you are not a ghost bear
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
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)
If you are in your normal environment and still feel the feelings mentioned previously then you must examine yourself
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
I made these rules up
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
I mean, I do not think being a ghost might be all that bad
But I also do not know for sure that ghosts even exist
Maybe they do not
But maybe they do?
Oh no, I have no idea
I started this with such confidence, and I was certain that I knew what I was describing, but I really do not
I have no idea what to do or say here
I have to try again
If you are a ghost, you can do things to help you not be a ghost
Maybe
Try not being a ghost?
That makes no sense and works for nothing else
You cannot just stop being a bear, you are always a bear
I am a bear
I am not a ghost
I am really certain of it
Now I am afraid that you do not believe me
I promise you I am not a ghost
Now I am more afraid of not being believed about my ghostism than I am of actually being a ghost
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
But maybe being a ghost is actually terrible and I do not know because I am not a ghost
I do not want to be a ghost
Unless I am one already
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.

Follow @a_single_bear

Sky tantrums.

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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.

Follow @a_single_bear

Hello, I am a bear

Thank you for visiting this site. Please enjoy the comics, writings, and adventures of me, a bear. I am a bear.

Tag Archives: nature

When rubbing your belly on something soft does not work.

I would like to change colors, too, you know.

I smashed the scary pumpkins because they probably had ghosts in them.

The acorns were not mine.

Special dumpster days.

Something happened to the eggs I found.

Something yelled at me today.

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

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

Sky tantrums.