Grandpa Bear's Story: Through the Eye of a Bear

By Xlibris US

These stories were initiated and written for those members of my family. They were originally penned to serve as childrens stories for parents and young ones alike to reread and continue to perceive the great beauty of nature. However, they are more closely related to Environmental Stories, while they still last.
These stories are written by a Bear. They reveal themselves under a different format than what would be expected. After all, being a Bear has a different outlook and perspective. And, for those who speak the language of a Bear, One Word Says It AllGRRRR !
GRRRR !

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499018042

Book preview

GRANDPA BEAR’S STORY

Through The Eye Of A Bear

R. E. KRAUS

Copyright © 2014 by R. E. KRAUS. 620007

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014908693

ISBN: Softcover        978-1-4990-1802-8

ISBN: Hardcover       978-1-4990-1800-4

ISBN: EBook             978-1-4990-1804-2

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 05/19/2014

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

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This book is dedicated to my Grandson

XANDER EDWARD KRAUS

Xander,

The nice thing about being a Bear is that one word says it all !

GRRRR  . . . Grandpa Bear

It is early morning in the forest and everything is very black and very dark. Even the stars, which brightly shine above the forest’s canopy, are blinded at the thickness of the branches and the leaves. But, the darkness gives protection and the small animals of the night know the sun will soon rise; they hurry to find their way home.

Quickly, the raccoons, the porcupines, and the rabbits scurry from the game trail to find shelter within their dens. Quietly, they move under the darkness guided by the swirl of sounds from the insects and the frogs. Listen now, and hear the crickets. Their call is high pitched and constant. The katydids buzz with sharp accents. Now the frogs croak, some here and some there. Collectively, these sounds are not noise, but harmony.

The small animals of the woods understand these sounds and like the blanket of night they serve as protection. When the sounds stop, danger is near. But, for now the forest echoes in contentment.

Soon, the first rays of light rise over the mountain and begin to fill the sky above the forest. Here, bats and night birds search for the insects and the frogs under the branches and leaves of the forest. As the transition changes from night into day, a small gust of wind brushes the long branches of a weeping willow. Mysteriously, the breeze edges through the forest and stirs the luna moth and the dragonfly. Silently, they flex their wings to resume stability. Meanwhile, the breeze has worked its way through the forest where it flows past the gnarled branch of a mighty oak. Here, it curls the feathers of a barred owl, perched upon a mighty bough. Soberly, the owl barks his call and then blinks. The darkness of his eyes is barely visible.

Then, from a distance, another owl replies. Her hollow tone is softened by the distance that separates them. Satisfied of her safe passage he smugly turns his head to first look into the river valley below and then again to peer up the mountain. His large eyes suddenly catch the movement of a chipmunk still lingering on the trail. Silently, the chipmunk gnaws an acorn and then vanishes into a grove of ferns.

At this moment, two deer arise from the ferns and though they barely notice the chipmunk, sniff the cool air for danger. Cautiously, the two deer tiptoe from their nesting sight, descend the trail, and drink from the river’s edge. A ghostly fog arises from the water and masks the deer’s silvery breath. Above them, with silent wings, the hollow voiced owl soars through the fog to find her way to the large oak. In conversation, the owls bark their calls and then blink. Though their hoots rise above the sounds of the crickets, the katydids, and the frogs, their eyes rest upon the game trail as darkness gives way to light.

The bright stars once hidden by the darkness beneath the trees are now hidden by the brightness above them. Meanwhile, a gang of squirrels has taken advantage of this new light and is caught playing tag. Boldly, they jump from tree to tree until one young squirrel lands upon the thin branch of a maple. The dew that has collected upon the leaves is suddenly shaken loose. Wildly, the droplets cascade upon the larger leaves of an elephant ear plant. Like a panic stricken drummer, the sounds scare a nest of cardinals, nearby. Together, they burst into flight with a volley of wing beats. Only the bright red color of the males is visible under the newfound light. The owls, however, witness both bright and dark color birds, but only blink in disconcern. Silently, they remain in focus from their perch and continue to observe the game trail as warm light begins to illuminate small pine needles, soft grasses, and purple violets that line the path.

Now, a red fox drifts along and is careful to avoid the noisy sticks and branches that lie upon the ground. The fox is so quiet that the owls barely notice him, yet the fox stops at the ferns to sniff the ground. Then, as easy as the first morning breeze, the red fox vanishes into his den amongst an outcropping of rocks. His bushy tail curls around him as he descends to its depths. But, as the brightness of the new day increases, the sounds of the animals change. Red headed woodpeckers now dart between the trees and tap, tap, tap on the decaying bark. Mourning doves coo as they forage for seeds. Even the kingfishers, flying from branch to branch along the river’s edge, chatter in their search for fish.

But, with the exception of a bobcat who has emerged from a stand of cattails near the barred owls, no other animal climbs the side of the mountain and passes the mighty oak. In fact the only sign that the bobcat has passed is a mere imprint of his foot within the soft soil. Yet, from their perch the owls clearly see signs of other animals that have passed during the morning hours. There are the cloven hoof prints from the two deer. There is a blue feather from a kingfisher. There is even a curved mark left by an indigo snake who has passed totally unnoticed. Though the owls watch and listen, there was but one set of footprints that did continue up the path and beyond the oak. This was the only set of prints that they could not account for. These footprints were embedded more deeply into the trail than the others. These footprints were perhaps four or five times larger than that of the bobcat and perhaps twenty or thirty times larger than that of the raccoon. This was the mark left by the largest and hungriest animal of the forest. It was the footprint of the Grizzly Bear.

Suddenly as the owls stare up the trail to the opening of a cave, they see movement within. Startled, the owls glance at each other and then back to the cave and nervously blink. It is time for the bears to arise. Slowly, a large brown nose emerges from the darkened cave. The fur seems to glow in the morning sun and both owls sit speechlessly. Their talons sink deeply into the texture of the bark. They dare not blink. The mother bear is the first to emerge. Slowly, her large body moves towards the game trail. Her eyes squint into the sun and with a quick flare of her nostrils, snorts.

The crickets, whose song lasts well into the morning, suddenly stop. The short and deliberate cheep of the cardinals terminates. Finally, the eerie shriek of the red—tailed hawk halts. All sounds within the forest crash into silence. Dead silence. Even the muskrat, noisily chewing the cattails, hears the danger signal. Silently, he slides below the surface of the water to seek refuge within its den.

Again, the bear snorts and a tiny cub stumbles from the den. Uncertain, he trembles at the side of his mother. The big bear turns her head and sniffs the cub. Reassuringly, she licks the baby’s face. How grand it feels!

Together, the bears descend the trail without concern. The baby runs to keep stride with the steps of the larger bear. But, only after they pass the mighty oak, do the owls turn their heads and look at each other. They blink in a sigh of relief.

Upon arrival at the river bank the larger bear marches into the cold waters. Carefully, she positions herself atop a rocky ledge at the head of a small waterfall. Without looking at the cub she snorts and the baby obediently sits upon a mossy rock. The big bear looks upstream and sees salmon. The baby bear looks downstream and sees adventure. Quietly, the baby arises and steps over the mossy rocks and into an opening of what appears to be another world.

Above the forest’s canopy is a blue sky and here, the morning breeze brings a current of salt air from the ocean, beside. The baby bear sees it flow across a sandy beach and into the rolling surf.

It is midmorning over the ocean and everything appears bright blue and very calm. The sun, which is shaded beneath the nearby forest’s canopy, is shining brightly over the stirring sea. Though the brightness of the water gives protection to the small white-bellied fish near the surface, teams of fingerlings still huddle together and rely on their swiftness to avoid danger. Quietly, the small fish move under the blanket of water, guided by the vibration of their own mass. There are no sounds from the starfish, the scallops, or the squid that lie below. However, calls from the white-sided dolphin, the humpback whale, and the Orca lace the deeper water. These are communications from large predators in search of smaller prey. Collectively, these sounds are not noise, but harmony to those who are not in fear. Yet, the small fish of the sea understand these sounds and like the brightness of day, they serve as protection. When these sounds arise, danger is near. But, for now, the sea echoes in contentment.

As the sun rises higher over a lightly clouded sky, the laughing gulls, the royal terns, and the ospreys soar across the heavens in search of schools of small fish that swim the waters, below. But, as the transition continues into mid-morning, there are long gusts of wind that edge across the