I watch a bear from the window, gracefully and powerfully descending the hill and later another sauntering serenely up the slopes of tundra. There is such peace in those movements that they make the chaos inside the bus all but disappear. The bear moving into the distance, beautiful and oblivious to the French tourist shoving the American elitist’s head down, all fighting for the best view. I think to myself, every bear I see is graceful, powerful and beautiful. How many people do I describe with those…
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