On a Monday afternnon in the cool of autumn, a writer strolls through the Protagonize Zoological Gardens and the writer enters into the imagined soliloquies of the members of the menagerie. The writer comes upon a bear, a once mighty and fierce brown Grizzly, but now in the twilight of his glory.
I Am Bear, Hear Me Growl
I am Bear, hear me growl, or at least, listen for the echoes of that barrel-chested roar I used to send through the northern timbers.
I was once king of that wilderness. When I thundered, the wild about me thundered. When I slept, the subjects of the realm walked by with cautious, quiet care.
I am Bear. I used to rise up to become a giant of claw and teeth, to fend off those who dared challenge my reign. I used to stand and sniff the air, catching the scent of those foolish enough to cross my path.
I used to fish the salmon, waist-deep in the icy mountain waters. With one swat of my paw, I snatched life from another and made it my own life's sustenance.
I am Bear. I would snarl at the eagle in the highest tree and face down the cougar glaring down from the rocks. I would turn my muzzle into the freezing wind and endure for months the deathly cold.
I am Bear. I have always been and will always be.