Bears At Midnight
Sara Wright
Curled claws
strike sparks
as they descend,
synchronizing sound and light.
Lightening bugs catch fire
in the tall wet grass.
“Uumph” she moans
Low and urgent,
reclining
at the base of a nearby pine.
They bound, furry black comets
frantically attempting
to reach the comfort of her belly
the calm softness of her skin.
“Umph, umph,” her voice low pitched and intimate
she communes;
I listen to these two
nuzzling nipples under a silken summer undercoat
sinking into her plush round body.
Motors humming, they nurse
Dreaming Songs of Home.
Alert, nose tasting the air,
on guard for snapping twigs
this mother scents with a wet tongue
and cupped ears that shift like radar
while her children sleep.
A sharp crackling in the underbrush
brings her to her feet;
the cubs mimic her stance.
A split second decision made
in the spirit of fearful defense, the bear
detects no threat and meanders down
a well worn path, winding
through white pine boughs and needles.
The forest floor
is seeded with fragrant wild lilies.
Sniffing a fallen tree stump
she pauses, rips open the bark
with two inch claws.
Juicy larvae provide protein in abundance.
Three ursine ancestors begin to feast.
The sky smudged in charcoal now bruises purple,
as the dawn bleeds into the palest apricot and rose.
The family will forage in the sanctity of the forest,
before they reach their cedar stripped nest.
This mother of three-month old cubs
teaches by example how to survive.
By June of next year two yearlings will have learned
all they need to know before she moves on to breed.
Berry bushes abound with blossoms;
juneberries, chokecherries, blueberries,
30,000 a day are consumed by each.
A necessary feast for bear weight gain -
Nut trees provide fall mast;
acorns and beechnuts sustain.
Only a well fed bear will endure the months
of mandated winter sleep.
The fall hunt will determine
if this family lives or dies.
If the she bear is shot
Her babes will succumb to slow starvation.
Abandoned without hope, they will keen,
a child-like haunting…
Even the trees cannot provide safe haven.
Who will advocate for those who have no Voice?
“In wilderness is the preservation of the world”
a wise man once said.
Nature’s cyclic round is hidden
beneath a culture seduced by distraction.
But death stalks us in the dying trees,
the barren broken mountains,
dioxin’s breath polluting still air.
And still humans turn away,
in hubris, silence, and indifference.
strike sparks
as they descend,
synchronizing sound and light.
Lightening bugs catch fire
in the tall wet grass.
“Uumph” she moans
Low and urgent,
reclining
at the base of a nearby pine.
They bound, furry black comets
frantically attempting
to reach the comfort of her belly
the calm softness of her skin.
“Umph, umph,” her voice low pitched and intimate
she communes;
I listen to these two
nuzzling nipples under a silken summer undercoat
sinking into her plush round body.
Motors humming, they nurse
Dreaming Songs of Home.
Alert, nose tasting the air,
on guard for snapping twigs
this mother scents with a wet tongue
and cupped ears that shift like radar
while her children sleep.
A sharp crackling in the underbrush
brings her to her feet;
the cubs mimic her stance.
A split second decision made
in the spirit of fearful defense, the bear
detects no threat and meanders down
a well worn path, winding
through white pine boughs and needles.
The forest floor
is seeded with fragrant wild lilies.
Sniffing a fallen tree stump
she pauses, rips open the bark
with two inch claws.
Juicy larvae provide protein in abundance.
Three ursine ancestors begin to feast.
The sky smudged in charcoal now bruises purple,
as the dawn bleeds into the palest apricot and rose.
The family will forage in the sanctity of the forest,
before they reach their cedar stripped nest.
This mother of three-month old cubs
teaches by example how to survive.
By June of next year two yearlings will have learned
all they need to know before she moves on to breed.
Berry bushes abound with blossoms;
juneberries, chokecherries, blueberries,
30,000 a day are consumed by each.
A necessary feast for bear weight gain -
Nut trees provide fall mast;
acorns and beechnuts sustain.
Only a well fed bear will endure the months
of mandated winter sleep.
The fall hunt will determine
if this family lives or dies.
If the she bear is shot
Her babes will succumb to slow starvation.
Abandoned without hope, they will keen,
a child-like haunting…
Even the trees cannot provide safe haven.
Who will advocate for those who have no Voice?
“In wilderness is the preservation of the world”
a wise man once said.
Nature’s cyclic round is hidden
beneath a culture seduced by distraction.
But death stalks us in the dying trees,
the barren broken mountains,
dioxin’s breath polluting still air.
And still humans turn away,
in hubris, silence, and indifference.
Working notes
I have been studying one kinship group of black bears for the last 14 years. My interactions with the bears are based on the trust that we develop as we get to know each other. Each year the joy of seeing some bears return in the spring is tinged with the terror of what’s to come. This narrative speaks to the mothers and their cubs, reflecting my ongoing fears for their survival and safety. There is no room for peace when studying bears. Our bear slaughter begins at the end of August and doesn’t end until November 30th. In Maine, hunters can legally set up bait sites which are often cans or pits dug into the ground and baited with junk food, two weeks before the season even begins. Hungry bears who must almost double their weight to survive hibernation are drawn to these sites at the time they are most vulnerable and are shot while their heads are in a can or a hole in the ground. Hunters also use dogs to tree bears so they can shoot them, even as the bears’ metabolism is slowing down in preparation for hibernation. Even more horrific are the steel leg traps that are hidden in the forest detritus. A bear caught in one of these traps will often gnaw its own foot off to escape, but even then, if it is a forepaw the bear will be unable to forage or to dig a den. Death comes slowly and painfully. In the state of Maine, almost half of the bears that are shot are females. If the females are pregnant they will all perish; if the cubs are first-year cubs, they will die a death of slow starvation after the mother is killed.
Oddly, I wrote this narrative poem before I actually had daylight interaction with the two mothers this spring, one with one cub, the other with two. I knew that I had two mothers. They had been coming in late at night often around midnight and I wanted to see them to identify them and to photograph them. There is something about writing these stories that creates a space for the fields of bears and humans to overlap in a peculiar way, and sure enough, just after I finished this poem both mothers began to bring in their cubs during daylight hours. I write to help myself survive and it is usually not my intention to write to bring the animals in. In fact, I have only written stories about one injured bear and a hummingbird with the intention to help it survive.
My question is always the same: Who will advocate for animals? Who will be the Voice of the Bear? I am only one.
Dr. Lynn Rogers, bear biologist of 46 years, has changed the face of the black bear from that of killer to a shy fearful denizen of the forest by learning from the bears, by observing them as they go about their lives. I am one of 20 presenters around the country that is offering his program, “Dispelling the myths of the Black Bear.” This summer, the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources revoked his permit to study more collared bears, citing “public safety” as the reason for revocation even though no one that Rogers has worked with in the field (he has a bear study course that people can attend to learn about bears first-hand) has ever been injured in all these years. The educational den cams on Roger’s site, bear.org, showing mothers giving birth, can no longer be broadcast live over the internet. At present, Dr. Rogers has filed suit against the Minnesota DNR literally taking on the NRA and other special interest groups as well as the other state agencies around the country that support mindless slaughter. Every state has its own natural resource agency and every single one is biased towards hunting and killing animals for sport. Since hunting season began in Minnesota, his eight remaining collared bears have been targeted by hunters. Last week one bear (all of which have been fitted with brightly colored ribbons) was shot and killed “in a hunting situation.” Aster, another of his bears, was shot in the forepaw. This vendetta against Rogers is frightening. As he states so succinctly, “they are trying to kill the messenger.”
Black bears are not normally dangerous to humans, and most so called “bear attacks” are the result a bear surprising someone on a back porch or a bear defending itself against the family dog. Some bear attacks occur when people try to pet a bear who is a wild animal, and not a cuddly toy. No one EVER asks why the bear might have become aggressive. There is only one point of view – that of humans. The chances of being killed by a black bear are about a million to one.
Oddly, I wrote this narrative poem before I actually had daylight interaction with the two mothers this spring, one with one cub, the other with two. I knew that I had two mothers. They had been coming in late at night often around midnight and I wanted to see them to identify them and to photograph them. There is something about writing these stories that creates a space for the fields of bears and humans to overlap in a peculiar way, and sure enough, just after I finished this poem both mothers began to bring in their cubs during daylight hours. I write to help myself survive and it is usually not my intention to write to bring the animals in. In fact, I have only written stories about one injured bear and a hummingbird with the intention to help it survive.
My question is always the same: Who will advocate for animals? Who will be the Voice of the Bear? I am only one.
Dr. Lynn Rogers, bear biologist of 46 years, has changed the face of the black bear from that of killer to a shy fearful denizen of the forest by learning from the bears, by observing them as they go about their lives. I am one of 20 presenters around the country that is offering his program, “Dispelling the myths of the Black Bear.” This summer, the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources revoked his permit to study more collared bears, citing “public safety” as the reason for revocation even though no one that Rogers has worked with in the field (he has a bear study course that people can attend to learn about bears first-hand) has ever been injured in all these years. The educational den cams on Roger’s site, bear.org, showing mothers giving birth, can no longer be broadcast live over the internet. At present, Dr. Rogers has filed suit against the Minnesota DNR literally taking on the NRA and other special interest groups as well as the other state agencies around the country that support mindless slaughter. Every state has its own natural resource agency and every single one is biased towards hunting and killing animals for sport. Since hunting season began in Minnesota, his eight remaining collared bears have been targeted by hunters. Last week one bear (all of which have been fitted with brightly colored ribbons) was shot and killed “in a hunting situation.” Aster, another of his bears, was shot in the forepaw. This vendetta against Rogers is frightening. As he states so succinctly, “they are trying to kill the messenger.”
Black bears are not normally dangerous to humans, and most so called “bear attacks” are the result a bear surprising someone on a back porch or a bear defending itself against the family dog. Some bear attacks occur when people try to pet a bear who is a wild animal, and not a cuddly toy. No one EVER asks why the bear might have become aggressive. There is only one point of view – that of humans. The chances of being killed by a black bear are about a million to one.
About the author
Sara Wright is a lifetime naturalist/ethologist (a person who studies behavior patterns of animals in the wild), who has been doing independent research on Black bears for 14 years. She also belongs to the North American Bear Center (bear.org) and offers an hour-long presentation about bears called “Dispelling the Myths about the Black Bear.” She lives in the western mountains of Maine in a small log cabin overlooking brook, field, and forest. She taught Women’s Studies at the university level for many years. She is also a Jungian Archetypal Pattern Analyst. She has a private practice, “Rootwork,” that she hopes will help women find their way in the world.