“We walk down the stairs and cross the yard to the bear path that descends beyond the high grass into the tall trees and ferns until we get to the river. We rock-hop to the other side and we’re in a magic realm. Within minutes we enter the White Mountain National Forest, a place the size of the state of Rhode Island. Trails spider-web out from there for over a thousand miles. We visit with wild things as often as possible, and occasionally wild things spill out of the forest, across the river, and up into our backyard as well. You see, wild goes both ways.” ~ Will’s Red Coat

That’s from the opening of the book. It also tells how Samwise and I begin half of our morning walks each week. This Monday morning we entered that cherished realm, in the same way that Aragorn, and the other bears, used to come and go back when Atticus lived here.

By now, you probably know the bears don’t come around anymore. When Atticus was alive, we’d get between five and a dozen regulars every year. They came so often, I named them. Among my favorites was Butkus, Walter, State of Maine, the Jackson Five (a mother and her four cubs). Aragorn was the most constant, and he used to sit with us in the backyard as he is in this photo. We were closest to him.

Atticus had a connection with wild things that was mythic. I would not believe it had I not lived through it. What’s more telling is how after he died, they stopped coming around.

Well, Aragorn did come one last time. It was the night of my birthday in 2016. I was sick and not sure if I could go forward with the Will’s Red Coat book tour. Late that night, Samwise grumbled and growled. For some reason, I walked to the door. Outside was Aragorn.

When I said his name, he looked up at me.

”I’m sorry, but he’s gone…But you already know that, don’t you? But there’s another. His name is Samwise Atticus Passaconaway. The last name is inspired by you. It translates to Son of the Bear.”

As I spoke, with the door open and the fully-grown Aragorn looking up at me, his eyes swam into mine. I don’t know why, but I knew he’d come to say goodbye.

It was raining and I invited him to spend the night.

This was all new to young Samwise, of course. When I looked for him, he was down the hall, mostly hidden, with his head peering around the corner.

I closed the door and watched Aragorn sit down, his enormous rump against the glass door.

I gathered cushions from the couch, grabbed pillows and our comforter from the bedroom, and I made a makeshift bed on the floor against the glass door.

Lightning flashed, and when it did, I could see that Aragorn was lying down, curled as Samwise was. But while Samwise was behind my knees, Aragorn’s eyes were looking at mine. We fell asleep that way, our faces inches away, separated by glass but connected from a past that included Atticus and Will.

Thunder rumbled through the night. Rain drummed against the roof of the house and the porch above the bear’s head.

When we awakened, the storm was gone, and so was Aragorn. It would be the last time we ever saw him, or any of the other bears in our yard. Interestingly, my flu symptoms were also gone.

That was three years ago.

Strangely, we often see bears when we walk on the country ski trails out back. Only one this year so far, however, but there are plenty of bear signs.

But it is not lost on me, that of all our morning walking routes, this is the one that excites Samwise to the point of dancing and leaping when he sees we are headed down Aragorn’s path to the river.

After a mental health morning hit me from out of the blue yesterday morning, things are back to normal today. I decided to visit the magic kingdom that’s outside our back door. Because we were trekking six miles, Emily stayed home in her crate.

This is how our walk begins.

Tom Ryan @TomandAtticusBeginning our morning walk, from our backyard.

August 24th 2020

1 Retweet57 Likes

Here’s one of our stopping points along the way.

Tom Ryan @TomandAtticusA regular stop along our woodland walk.

August 24th 2020

11 Likes

Where we cross over into the White Mountain National Forest.

The sun begins to rise above the trees and paints the river a shimmering gold.

Tom Ryan @TomandAtticusAnd another...

August 24th 2020

14 Likes

Yesterday, I wrestled and was undone not just with everything that is distressing in our world, but by how it’s become normalized by millions. Apathy is a sin in a lifetime that is already too short. To see folks not just accepting all that is dysfunctional is bad enough, but actually having so many co-opted to argue for the wrongs reveals much of what our society has devolved into.

I know there’s little I can do, but live my life as I see fit. So I allow myself a few hours of despair when needed, but have faith that I will rise again. This morning, I am back to where I typically am.

I empathize with those who wrestle with stress and depression on a constant basis. God bless you—for you endure much.

As I wrote yesterday, don’t feel you always have to hold it together. It’s admirable to realize when you need to give into grief. These are tough times. If we are to make the most of this life, make the most of what our world can be, it’s important to pace ourselves.

We may enter and leave this world on our own, but the only way we can make it through this marathon is by realizing we’re all in this together.

As I wrote yesterday, if you are struggling, please realize you are not alone.

I leave you with one more photo if Aragorn on our little porch, and these words from the great Wallace Stegner.

Onward, by all means.

“It would be easy to call it quits. Occasionally I have these moments, not often. There is nothing to do but sit still until they pass. Tantrums and passions I don't need, endurance is what I need." ~ Wallace Stegner

Give a gift subscription

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your support in this new medium. With each post, I now reach far more of you than I was reaching on Facebook. And no, I do not miss FB. I’m only sorry I did not make the switch sooner.

Subscribe now