chawing down

 

the draw of the chestnut

a glance out the kitchen window

and there's a dark mass in the yard,

a bear!

not very big, it was probably a cub last year:

beautiful, sleek, compact,

I grab my camera, put on the telephoto lens,

and spend 35 minutes watching it

scout out and munch down

on green chestnut burrs,

coaxing out the not yet ripe nuts,

but close enough to make the effort worth it,

the bear knows I'm nearby

it is alert to quick movement or to sudden sounds,

so I make none,

and he relaxes into peaceful coexistence,

this bear is true to the basic culture of his species in this valley,

humans can be annoying but are not dangerous

or an easy source of food,

food is often found near human houses,

but from trees who don't care who eats the nuts,

I usually stay about 25 feet from the bear,

and make little noise,

make no abrupt movement,

when it approaches 20 feet from me,

I slowly back up to give it its space,

I savor my pictures of it savoring the chestnuts,

my pictures are of it just being itself, and foraging,

later I am down by the creek,

and a black swallowtail butterfly visits a cardinal flower,

I add pictures of it feeding

after those pictures of the bear feeding in my camera,

I wait by the stream

in case the bear wants a drink, a dip, a crossing here,

that way doesn't open,

how extraordinary the last hour has been,

how wonderful the gifts

 of animal,

of plant,

of the song and joy of the stream

that is always there for us

to notice,

to appreciate,

upon which we can center ourselves,

and hold within us 

the bear, and cardinal flower, and butterfly.

by Henry H. Walker

August 20, ‘26