Title Image: Pixabay
The tree shook, desperately daring to withstand the nutrient-poor soil in which it stood. Bumper harvest was a golden memory. Small bitter fruits extended the capacity of the tree to breaking point.
The bears beneath, which fed upon the tree, squabbled over the meagre pickings. It mattered not to the bears that the health of the tree was their future. Their former fortuitous feasting was, to them, the rightful order of things.
Dead bears return to the soil. The bear is earth, the earth is tree, the tree is bear, the whole reality of the cycle of life.
Darwin’s Bears failed to become gardeners; they said they had no need; but the fruit bore fresh trees. Darwin wrote of bears.
All Rights Reserved. ©Edward Bryans 2017. No unauthorised reproduction of this post in whole or in part is permitted without the express written consent of the author