October 19, 2016: Underground
The anxiety underground reached fever pitch. Months of peaceful hibernation interrupted by footsteps – light and heavy, swift and slow – on the ground above. Restlessness took hold of the adolescent bear as she wondered what action was being accomplished above. Her brain rested and neurons connected, her thoughts were the first to emerge from hibernation. She thought of what to think of the interrupting footsteps. A slower pace led her to think of a mindful stroll through the blossoming bushels of spring. Oh how she would love that. A faster pace led her to picture a giant lake waiting for her to dive into with glee and joy. Oh how she would love that. The multiple footsteps led her to imagine a companion by her side to share hopes, dreams, and fears with. Oh how she would love that. What lay above was within her reach, she reminded herself. This was not her first Spring. She rolled over from her back side and desperately began clawing at the ground above. Making her way above ground, she roared and stretched her claws high to the blue sky. She turned around and saw no other bears. She wondered then where the footsteps she thought she heard came from. Alas, her anxiety had been imagined by her impatience. “Lesson learned,” she told herself as she made her way to a single bush that was the only one yet to have blossomed its flowers.