Visit From a Bear

A bear came for the first time late last night and knocked over the bird feeder. It took its mighty paws and bent the entire post down to the ground in its search for food. I did not know this till the morning, yet as it approached, the wind chimes hanging in a small tree not too far away tinkled in the windless air. I heard them, wondering in the stillness what kind of animal was announcing itself, and why, of all the places it could have passed through, it had brushed up against the chimes.

This plausible communication might be thought an accident by some, a deliberate gesture by others, leading to the question of why make an announcement?

No interaction in life is truly accidental. None is meaningless. The sound of a bear moving past wind chimes interacts with my ears and heart, and creates a relationship. In that new creation is a choice - the choice of how to respond, the choice of how to acknowledge another.

Statistics would tell us that bears in the springtime in certain locales are on the prowl for food. The heart might tell us that the bear was looking for something in addition to food and thus announced its presence. Which we choose to believe determines how we respond to life and with what degree of presentness. Neither explanation rules out the other. Both take into account the beingness of another life.