Two Gray Birds, The Invisible Spiderweb And The Bear

I laid my sheep skin on one end of the Gulley bridge,  took off my boots and sat, legs crossed facing the path that leads into the woods.

I was quiet compared to the birds, who seemed to accept me right away, and the steady gurgling of water over rock.

The sun was still covered in morning clouds, I squashed one mosquito as I felt it’s sting, then swatted another away.  The gnats were tireless but only for a while, then they vanished with the mosquitos, leaving me with the music of  brook and birds.

I thought of the big raccoon I saw the last time I meditated on the bridge.  I kept wanting to turn my head, hoping it would appear again.  Then I wondered to myself what I would do if I saw a bear on the path.  I know there’s at least one in these woods, I’d seen him a couple of weeks ago.

But the longer I sat the longer it was just me, the water and the bird song.

Finally my brain settled and I found my eyes focused on the bubbles that flowed from somewhere behind the bushes that over hang the stream.  They turn at the fallen tree on the bank, then burst as the flow over the live branch bobbing on the water.

I had accepted that even the sun would not be joining me this morning.

Sometime after that the birds showed up.  Bigger than a sparrow and smaller than a robin, two gray birds, hopping through the tangle of branches that arch over the stream.  They looked to me like the were enjoying themselves, never putting too much space between them.

They stayed for a while, only a few feet from me, either not knowing I was there or not caring.

When they flew off, I went back to watching the bubbles.

But soon the sun came out making the invisible visible.

Right where I had been staring for most of my meditation, and couldn’t in the dim light,  was a serving-plate-sized spiders web, with a thin, long legged spider in the center of it. Golden in the sunlight, at first I thought the spider was part of the web itself.

I smiled at the thought of not seeing what is right in front or me.  First the birds and now this, it’s more than I could have asked for.

I didn’t think of it at the time but afterwards, I was surprised at how quiet the bear was.

I didn’t know he was there,  just on the other end of the bridge (just ten feet away) from where I sat, until I saw his big black head.  The dense back fur absorbing light, creating a dark hole in the glistening green.

Without thinking, heart pounding, I stood up, making myself bigger than the bear.

Apparently he didn’t know I was there either.  He turned his head towards me and I saw his soft brown nose.

Then, with a rustling of green,  he was gone, disappearing up the path into the woods.

I stood on the little bridge grinning, heart still pounding now with excitement as much as the healthy fear that got me on my feet.

I thought of leaving as the bear had, but knew he was long gone, so I sat back down continuing my meditation.

As I sat I wondered if I’d ever have the nerve to just sit and watch the bear instead of chasing him away, I wondered if the bear every walked over the bridge, or even waded through the stream getting even closer to the farm.  What about those time when our donkey Lulu stands erect, ears straight up listening to what can’t be seen.

I didn’t have time to settle my brain again, soon  the timer on my phone let me know my hour was up.

I rolled up my sheep skin, stepped into my boots and made my way back to the house.  I couldn’t wait to tell Jon about the birds, the spiders web and the bear.

(This happened yesterday, I just didn’t  have time to write about it.)