"A thing of beauty is a joy forever" - John Keats

	The Bear's Lair five toes meant one thing. he was near. I followed his tracks. passed a dead buck. probably taken down by a bullet. I secured my handgun and my rifle. I must get the jump on him. I tip-toed creekside. then, suddenly, on the other bank, I heard an air-shaking growl. my whiskey mouth mumbled. his jaw opened wide, his body full of wanton hunger. I grimaced.  he'd be a trophy if I could take him. he rose on his hind legs. I swallowed twice. cocked my gun. but he was fast. me clumsy. he crossed back and grabbed me. I hung in his teeth like a toy. this is it. my last act. the headlines will read eaten by a bear. but no, the ordeal continued. he dragged me through the gurgling stream into bushes and across beds of rocks. bruised me bad. when we reached the beast's den, I feared I'd be dinner. I saw mama bear and her growing cubs. they motioned back and forth with their paws. I understood. they said I'd make a great rug.		Wahkeena Falls (Beautiful Woman in Yakima Native Language) bright, white and sassy, she hops rocks, dives beneath downed trees. I watch her thrash to the ground. catch her furious spray, her gypsy soft air. then I watch her roll out to sea in her own patent way. she endures with integrity. her sacred dance, her speech, her ancient sound draws me in with sweet protecting kisses. I walk in her wilds. tossing around in her century old rocks. she is never out of sight. she has a stone bottom, even an underworld. I can smell her.  she helps build my ship. speaks like a companion. my wandering mind rests in her play, in her story. upon leaving, I always thank her. in winter her lone body rips out a rhapsodic roar. spurious wind gusts bend her legs, wring her side to side. she hisses and howls yet her droplets touch your face like soft winter kisses. I come each week with the satisfaction of knowing she is never somewhere else.