In wildness is the salvation of the world. -- Henry Thoreau
Chemicals, oil, caked-on grime of the machine reek of what is wrong with humanity. Here was wild bear, living clean, by his wits, a part of the big scheme, not taking more than his share, not bringing down the whole ecosystem. He is not the one who is out of place, or rather out of sync, out of balance. I wanted to apologize now that we had the chance to at least greet each other.
Not long after the season of bears, Sean began to have nightmares. He would wake up in the middle of the night, terrified, and run to our bed. He burrowed into the space between us and shook until he went back to sleep. He told us about the dreams when he was able to talk, usually as he played with his Legos or pattern blocks. As long as he was involved in something other than the telling, he could air his fears. He told me that in his recurring dream a bear could walk through walls. This bear would come into the house and threaten him, bring its big, wild scent into the house, along with the teeth and claws.