In Single Tempo1
Over the high snow peaked mountains and under the blankets of clouds sat a grizzly bear with her cub on the flat frozen tundra. The wind blew fiercely and hugged the underbrush of budding red berries. In puffs and folds, circles of snow formed piles of wedged drifts, like frothy currents on sea capped waves. The mother and her cub moved up and into the canyons, crossing valleys, passing pine trees, and willows full of mangled brown roots. For two days, the mud on the trail had been transformed into gated spikes as thorns of crust rose everywhere. The cub followed behind in single tempo until they got to the rocks that grew like monoliths above the blue horizon shining onto a half frozen stream of spawning salmon. The mother had returned to her birthed home, showing me her new pride and joy.2
I gasped in stoic silence as my mind raced in unearthed jubilation. For a second or it might have been an hour, my whole being was focused on the moment as the angled moon crept in silence down the mountainside. My camera hugged my eyes in shadowed focus, now an extension of my thoughts in all its beauty and innocence.3
I treaded slowly and carefully upon the icy bank as to not disturb the primordial lessons the grizzly was giving to her cub. The salmon leaped and slithered as they vaulted in the pooled arena of lurching, impaling rocks. A game of instinct and skill began the challenge of survival as the race of evolution took precedence over lingered deaths. The gnawed salmon heads fell below the waterfall making a pool of blood as the lapping tongue of the cub took its first drink of scaled flesh.4
Calling the cub with beckoning bellow, the grizzly treaded upstream. My thoughts twisted into splashing city lights and sprawling concrete dunes that surrounded and encroached upon this sanctuary of effervesce green. The nearest town below looked like cargo containers made of rusted aluminum boxes. They lay side by side, lifeless in their dire attempt to model a prototype of the new industrial igloo. Invitations to civilization slashed the landscape. Signs along the highway stood tall and nondescript. They were smudged in chipped paint, a blur of words and pictures. It was an assault to the eye, beholding an explosion of ravaged destruction. 5
I pondered further, envisioning the complicated web of inventions that man has spun, constructing reversals to his endless mistakes. The environmental stress that man has created seems an impossible feat to unknot. It would take a thousand years for the human muscle to memorize the sins that all of us have created, all the while keeping the forbidden fruit alive. How could man live within his means without disrupting the land habitats of the pristine wild and still give meaning to his life? Maybe a mutation of thought could evolve in the human spirit? 6
Trapped in unmitigated thought, fog had come from nowhere
and had draped its fortress of white, spiking my body, as it swirled around my head. I stomped upward crossing the shrieking stream with anguished stride. The thawing ice was softening under my stiff leathered boots as my eyes listened in cathartic hopes that the grizzly would unleash her jaws in unfettered rage upon my flesh and shout, “You are a disgrace and not deserving to exist on this earth. You are not a god and never will be!”7
Falling from a ledge in collapsed thoughtless icy misstep, I regained my composure. My eyes were set deep in the canyon beneath my brows as I sat on the red horizon upon the mountain’s cold chill, watching on darkened cliff in awe. In full moon’s highlighted silhouette, the grizzly and her cub walked away full of rich protein while gleaming at me as if saying goodbye. I watched through my open lens, in honored stance, as she showed me her majestic joy for the last time. These memories will be kept alive in frames upon walls of the many generations to come, entitled, In Single Tempo. 8
9
Author notes
In Single Tempo: Written by Betsy Holzner
This story is about a grizzly bear and her cub as I wandered behind with my camera in hand.
First story that I have ever attempted!
A contest entry
- A challenge to all: I'm not looking for a story. I'm looking for literature. by DreamWanderer.
1750 points, ended April 13, 21 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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A nice telling of nature at work, makes me wish I was there. The mixed reaction tells me much. A post took issue with the "long" sentences/descriptions. Not so; the opening sentence from Under the Volcano is 42 words alone, and many could run into the hundreds (note: sentence length and run-on are distinct). Myself, I craved *more* description and detail; a 1000 words would of held me even better. I can't understand the thirst for short sentences and paragraphs in writing these days, for writing good stuff isn't about moulding to the ideas of others, it's about what comes out, word count be damned. And here you did. In short: another entry that aced what I was looking for. Wondrous first effort (you sure you haven't done this before?)
Congrats
Dw
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Very beautiful write and so richly detailed. It felt as if I was there with my camera surveying the grizly and her baby.
Bravo, lovely write(:
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i agree that its kind of on the bit annoying discription side but it made it more vivid. could of been longer but all in all a very good piece of writing i am also a photographer and i know how proud you feel when everything comes together for the perfect shot very good job. keep writing.
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it must be great to have a job like that...to witness the lives and lively-hood of something so fierce and majestic...i would love to be able to see nature from that perspective...so exhilarating and wonderful...something worth living for...
great job with this... -
Very poetic. I liked it a lot.
I read the first paragraph yesterday and I came back hoping you finished the second and you did! YAY! Very descriptive but I do not think its to much (I was reading some of the previous comments). I think it’s very well written. Was this something you actually saw? 'cause it seemed kind of personal, but I do not know.
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Well Done
You were descripted and it was well written. Good job and keep up the good work.
peace.
Brittany. -
THe story itself was rather short
but then again it was descriptive and quite a lovely picture. I wish it was either longer or like the other person said as a poetry format. Please keep writing. You've done a marvolous job. I'd like to see more of this one please!
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wow
that was good, leaning a little to the annoying disriptive side but still ok. I like it thank you.
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Descriptive, yes
but perhaps too much so. This would be lovely as poetry, however, I would not want to read, let say, an entire book or even short story so laden as this paragraph. Imagine keeping up this writing 'tempo' for how many more paragraphs?!?
I think you might exhaust yourself in the attempt.
Perhaps, spread it out a bit so that the reader has time to digest, drink in the visuals in what appears to be a good foundation.
(in my opinion, of course
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Very lyrical writing style.
Excellent writing indeed. It paints a very vivid picture and is actually quite beautiful. I just wish it was longer.
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