I’m going to miss this big guy.
I’m going to miss this big guy. For over twenty years he welcomed me home to Bozeman and promised to watch over me. I would sit in baggage claim waiting for my stuff and seek his blessing by rubbing his great sharp claws, polished bright by all the others like me.
Looking at this photo I noticed maybe for the first time the name of the sculpture. I never thought of him as a sculpture, but as an important part of this mountain town, and definitely a necessary spirit looking out for us.
There’s something deeply uncivilized about Montana, in the best sense of the word. Even as a post-pandemic playground for influencers and the super-wealthy, it continues to surprise with weather and wildlife that simply do not behave.
I remember being chased out of East Glacier by a storm coming down the valley that was so dark and menacing and moving so fast it felt like Lord of the Rings. I knew we were probably safe in my car but I still drove as fast as I could.
As the saying goes, if you don’t like the weather in Montana, just wait five minutes. And if you need a good joke, look at your weather app.
I know I’ll see him again in the spring. But leaving the place that has been my home all these years and willfully throwing myself into a state of homelessness, I sought his blessing extra hard this time.
I need that great bear to guard the precious people I leave behind. And more than ever, I need him to watch my back as I head out into the wide, wild world.
