Bear Shrug

Bear Shrug

By Catherine Sawers

 

 

I was minding my business

Tending a pot of veg korma on the stove

Unaware of what I might witness

Several yards from me in the berry grove

Was probably reading one of my periodicals

Like cineaste or new left review

The closest big city was a few hundred kilometers

Where I took a break from using shampoo

 

 

Behind my campsite there was constant rustling of leaves

But you’d be surprised how much noise birds make

While looking for grubs at the feet of the trees

So, convinced that it wasn’t puma or rattlesnake

I carried on with my stirring and reading

While animals foraged for their own dinners

And other campers set up tents and were preparing

Their bar-b-que pits with local timber

 

 

It was near dusk, the hour of the animals

A family of deer grazed in the site across from me

In the trees scurried hunters and gatherers

And I read about the habits of the petit bourgeoisie

In other words, it was an evening like any other

Just with much cleaner air

In the middle of a long, hot summer

And interrupted by an eastern mountain black bear

 

 

What made me eventually turn around?

Something along the lines of a sixth sense

Perhaps I sensed a change in tone or sound

At last there was an answer to my suspense

Not fifteen feet behind me in the brush

A chubby black bear was busy at work

With a shiny nose and fur so plush

Who was blatant and noisy and surprisingly overt

 

 

I suppressed my impulse to pet and cuddle

And followed my instinct to shout, clap and make noise

But the bear couldn’t be bothered to miss a nibble

Or share some of his hard-earned spoils

So I took a metal spoon and a frying pan lid

And banged them together while shouting

You’d think the message would be far from turbid

But apparently I was not in the least bit daunting

 

 

Finally, I must have piqued his curiosity

Because the bear climbed atop a boulder

To see if I was friend or monstrosity

And to contextualize the veg korma odor

I dropped the spoon and clutched my cheeks

And exclaimed, But You Are So CUTE!

I could not conceal my laughs and shrieks

While this bear remained calm and mute

 

 

There we stood, locked in a gaze

Unable to look away for whole minutes

The look in my bear’s eyes spoke essays

About an animal’s consciousness and existence

I am certain now that bears have thoughts

What else can explain his curiosity being satisfied?

Those intense eyes will forever haunt

As I remember my dinner guest who was polite and dignified

 

 

We stared at each other for an eternity

Now what? My bear seemed to say

His reassuring gaze filled me with certainty

That we would meet again someday

In the meantime, I have to remember

That I just had a moment with a bear

That was both existential and tender

Where we agreed that the woods are big enough to share

 

 

He was so close that I could have tried to shake his paw

But it was enough to smile and wave

And not force him to run or withdraw

Or take for granted that he was being very brave

How did he know I’m not a hunter?

Just showing his face took considerable risk

Maybe he was a naïve, little youngster

Or a macho and dangerous egoist

 

 

But I don’t think he is any of those things

I think he is a nice bear, whose attention was grabbed

By a woman who camps, cooks and sings

In the mountains and forests of the hinterlands

And now that winter is approaching

I’m sure my bear is getting fat on grubs and moths

And through the frozen streams he is rambling

Until I can see him again in the summer months