The Bear In The Woods

I did not take a single picture in the woods.  Although I was tempted by the heart-shaped leaves growing close to the ground and the tiny but sturdy yellow flowers that looked like miniature orchids.

I went to empty my head, not fill it even more.

Last night Jon and I went out to dinner, something we haven’t done in so long I can’t remember where or when it was. It was such a welcomed break in our routine and helped to shatter the spell that had descended on us.

This morning I wanted to keep that feeling going.  Doing something different worked last night I decided that instead of going to my studio this morning, I’d go for a walk in the woods.

And not the woods I walk so often, but a different woods.  One close by that has trails I’ve never walked before. I couldn’t take the dogs, so I went alone.

Translucent beech leaves, waving in clusters, soft, sensitive green. 

Giant rock ledge piled up, falling down.   An avalanche caught in time, sprouting ferns and pines like hair. 

I walked up hills and down, over the same stream more than once.  I didn’t really lose my way.

Twice I turned around and retraced my steps.  One path parallel to Route 22, the sound of traffic a constant.  The other took me further into the sun, till I saw signs for snowmobiles and knew the path could go on for many more miles than I wanted to walk.

On the way back, down a hill, about fifty feet from me, a very big black bear walked from the woods onto the path.

I stopped.  I put my hand on my heart, (I don’t know why) and I looked at the bear.

He stopped too, either smelling or hearing me, and turned his head to face me.  Shiny thick black fur, and a soft tan conical nose.  He lifted his head and we stared at each other for a moment or two.  Then the bear turned his head, lifted his padded feet, and ran silently into the woods.

Now my walk was complete.

Tired and sweaty, somehow even after seeing the bear, my head was clearer than it had been in weeks.  Yet I felt filled with warmth and excitement, it still sits in my chest as I write this,  as if something special had happened.

I’ll probably look up the meaning of a bear crossing my path at some point.  But for now, the experience of the meeting, quick as it was, is enough. I’m still smiling from it.

I can see that so black and glistening, shiny, long, soft fur.  I can feel the mass of the bear, heavy, lumbering yet graceful at the same time. And that nose,  the only other color, and texture in a bulk of smooth, rounded curves.

I went to the woods for cleansing and renewing.  Forest bathing it’s been called.  I went to shake up my routine to pull me from myself.

Thanks to the hills and the wandering paths and thanks to the black bear,  I received it.