July 23, 2006
STILL LIFE
I was aware that it was ‘feeding time’ and that the swamp scrub was ideal ursine habitat, so I took off my headphones while I photographed the glass-like tranquility of the morning lake – before the real heat kicked in. That’s when I heard it.
Squirrels and birds can make disproportionately loud noises in heat-desiccated leaves and dry scrub …but this … this sound was the unmistakable crunch and sway of a heavy beast moving through the undergrowth toward my hide – a bird watching platform with one exit. And entrance.
I was trapped.
Okay, so I’m melodramatic
:) , but I could have been.
The only way out was to move toward the sound, making for the main trail .. hopefully before the bear could enter.
But there he was.
Blocking my way. Or rather, I his. Our eyes connected and adrenaline dumped straight into my system. Base and primal. And every time I get an adrenaline rush like this my limbs don’t pump up with fight, they go weak and wobbly … and they make me think that even if I did chose flight, I might have trouble making my body cooperate. What’s with that? It takes concerted mental effort to make my legs … un-wobbly.
Well, the bear wasn’t going to move for me, so I tried to sidetrack him and veer back onto the main trail at which point he decides to follow. I made human noises, to let him know I was, well, human, but they came out more like a grunt. Which then had me worried he might think I was trying to be aggressive. So I tried ridiculous high-pitched talking. I know, I know — at this point you are all laughing. But even though I see these animals all the time … there is ALWAYS something so awe-inspiring and elemental about an encounter with a wild beast.
I kept looking back over my shoulder for a while as I made my way along the trail – careful not to run and trigger reflexive chase. It was early in the morning, real quite. I felt quite alone with my friend.
Two cyclists came past. I told them to take it easy – bear ahead. And they rode off ringing their bells. A few minutes later they were back. Turns out he wasn’t going to move for them either. I laughed the adrenaline buzz off.
And that’s when I realized it. For every second of that little encounter … a part of my brain was taking mental note of exactly how my body felt … because while I’m looking at this bear … and feeling a moment of raw fear, I’m thinking … concentrate kiddo, you can use this in a book.. This is what your heroine is feeling when she meets the bad guy, or …..…..
Is this normal?
I’m guessing the weird thing is, that for writers – or artists of any sort really – it is.











Bailey Stewart Says:
I wasn’t laughing - you scared me.
And yes, I think that good writers have this little part of themselves that “breaks” off, sort of like multiple personalities, and observes every situation in an analytical way - just in case.
I’m baaaaaccckkkkk!
irene Says:
Loreth….good thing you took the headphones off ! He might have had to tap you on the shoulder to get you to move out his way !
Our last bear (last week) came right up on the deck to the sliding door.
The next day he was at Ian’s about to eat the stinky shoes on their porch.
Toni Anderson Says:
Oh dear!! Thankfully you didn’t get to shake hands! They always get you when you least expect it!!!
Like with a bare bum
meretta Says:
Goodness, Loreth. I’m glad he didn’t get you!! Glad you got your emotions, though! Good thinking.
Loreth Says:
Baileeeeeees Baaaaack!!!!!
:)
Yep, you got it — I feel schizo :0
Loreth Says:
Your shoes not good enough, Irene ??
Guess you wouldn’t hear a bear approaching with the river noise?
Loreth Says:
No bare bums here, Toni
And yes, got the emotions, Meretta — as Robert Frost said, a poet does not need to go to Niagra to write about the force of falling water. So I figure fear, misguided or otherwise ;), is still going to feel like … fear.