Instead, though the scientist within knows better, I feel a bit like I'm being punished.
I was dragging when I woke up this morning, so I stayed in bed for a bit trying to convince myself to get up.
Five minutes. Less even. If I'd just gotten up five minutes earlier, I might've been rewarded: I might've seen bears.
Instead, when the frantic yelling began, I'd just gotten out of the shower. The exhaust fan was still sucking up steam, so I wasn't even sure the yelling was aimed at me. If the house was on fire, it seems clear now that I wasn't awake enough to care. Then my brain pieced together two words from the vocal barrage: "Claire" and "bears."
I was dry but naked. Though I'm not surprised, I learned that in a moment of crisis, modesty prevails (when I don't know where everyone is). I grabbed a black towel, but it was too short, so I yanked the larger pale blue one off the rack and wrapped it around my waist. I immediately reversed the towels because I did not want to risk staining the pale blue with blood. By the time I manged to clutch both towels relatively shut and open the door, I heard, "I lost sight of them. ... Yup, they're gone."
I closed the door and resumed my routine. Within five minutes, I was dressed, save for socks, menstrual blood held at bay. If I'd been a man, concern for blood dripping wouldn't have been an issue and one towel would have been enough.
Knowing I'd missed the bears felt worse than not knowing they were there. I told myself: It's nice to know they're around at least. And even if I'd reacted instantaneously I still might've missed them because I couldn't understand most of the yelling, including where to look.
Just yesterday, I emailed someone about the bears' appearances last spring. I've never seen them in autumn. Though it's irrational, part of me feels like thinking about them yesterday conjured their appearance today. My reason, however, takes it as evidence that I should keep an eye out for them.
Maybe next time.
A year ago on TTaT: Misunderstood once