Polar Bear

Bear Feet

“Look at those bear feet,” I said, pointing. My thoughts were a mishmash—thinking about how beautifully adapted they were, thinking about the size of those claws in a bear claw necklace, and thinking how sad it is that a polar bear has a better chance of survival in a New Mexico zoo than in the place where its adapted to live.

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “bear” or something suggested by the photo.

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Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

11 thoughts on “Polar Bear”

  1. “Look at those bear feet! They’re bare!”

    He looked at me like I was nuts. He didn’t get it. Maybe he’d never get it – my weird, off the wall, blurtings; what I thought was funny. But he was so nice! Nice guys don’t come around all that often; or if they do, the rest of the package ain’t so hot.

  2. I like puns, but mine usually get greeted with a groan! (I suppose we can exult in the saying about how “great minds think . . .”?)

  3. Mr Gruff, the polar bear loved Miss Mellow the penguin but was too shy to ask her out.

    He enquired if Icy Fox would ask, but Icy Fox said no.

    Miss Mellow, a no nonsense penguin fell into a hole yelling, help!

    The wedding was the event of the year.

  4. One of my favorite photographs is one my mom took of my little cousins standing in front of the polar tank at the Rio Grande Zoo. The bear in the photograph has just jumped into the blue water pool, and my cousins are standing in silhouette in front of the deep blue tank.

  5. I love bare feet.
    No shoes in the house.
    Shoes kicked off at door.
    Children have always done the same at “mama’s house”
    Now little grandchilden doing the same.
    Homes where every area of earth and grass was known
    Bare feet there also
    If I did not have too
    I would probably never wear shoes.

  6. My feet hurt. My toes are still cold and I’ll jump back in this cool pool in a minute or two. Look–there’s one of those funny bipeds again, pointing a little box at me. I wonder if she’s crunchy on the inside. (kudos to Bizarro.)

    Wonder who’s for dinner….

  7. This world is blue, here in the reinforced plastic tube into which we – he and I – are crowded, staring up at the tank of rippling water that swirls above us. Even one crack in our fiberglass bubble would turn the lot of us into the next three day news tragedy. Outside it’s a sweltering ninety six degrees and only getting hotter. Here we can forget. It’s blue. Ice blue.

    “I think we should see other people,” he says, slender hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans. He never looks down from the ceiling. No one does. I nod. The silence slaps my cheeks. They redden. “Here it comes,” he says, pointing with thick knuckles to the liquid sky. We hold our breaths as the crystal air around us goes black, then cracks back to the frozen, unabashed glare of sunlight. The white bear swims back to the edge of the pool, climbs out, shakes. The crowd begins to shuffle toward the door. He turns, moves with them. I watch the water slowly settle. A new crowd is on its way in.

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