Thirty-one years ago a grizzly bear was born in Grand Teton National Park. No one knew then that 399, as she was called, would be celebrity. At a grand old age of 26 she became famous by doing something natural yet extraordinary. She gave birth to quadruplets. Since quads are kind of rare in the grizzly bear population, she was studied by everyone. Her 4 tiny cubs were a phenom. None of this phased her--she had a job to do: raise those cubs to be wise grizzly bears. She was undaunted by that monumental task. 399 was a natural mama bear, as she had raised several sets of twins before. She knew what to do. She taught her cubs until they were old enough and wise enough to be on their own. The quads thrived in the Park. And then another miracle happened, when she awoke from her winter den in her 28th year, she was followed by yet another cub. She was a very old grizzly mama bear by this time.
Folks from all over the world flocked to the Tetons to see 399 and her cubs. The roads in the Park were cordoned off so everyone had a chance to see the 5 bears from a safe distance (they were grizzly bears afterall). I would make special trips into the Park, just to see 399 and her cubs. Once in awhile she would put on a show by crossing the road with her little ones trailing behind her...or all 5 would swim across a stream...or she would play with her cubs...and everyone would take pictures and ooh and aah over 399 and her cubs. She was nicknamed the Queen of the Rockies.
Then something horrible happened. Late one night, when her last cub was 1 year old, 399 was killed in an automobile accident. All of us felt our hearts skip a beat. We would never see 399 playing with her cubs anymore. We miss our Queen. She was our very special bear. And, while we know she is not with us any more, her spirit lives on in the Tetons.
To that end, my friend Sunni wrote a poem about 399--the Queen of the Rockies. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!
In the deep, dark places
Of the forest night,
Where the moonbeams
cannot illuminate,
Her footsteps tread softly still.
A leaf rustles, a branch
Moves as she passes.
The pika watches intently
From its crevasse in the rock.
Her breathing awakens
the slumbering ravens,
And their cries into the stillness
Echoes across the valley.
“She is still here!” they cry. “She is still here.”
The broad river flows
swiftly over the rocks
that tumble where she walks.
The wolf pauses and then retreats silently
back into the darkness.
This is her territory, then, now and forever.
These mountains where she drew her first breath.
These mountains where she grew and thrived.
These mountains where she became the land, the rivers, and the sky.
These mountains are her home, then, now, and forever.
The bison lie quietly as she passes
The elk stay hidden in the sage.
Once enemies, now respect.
She pays them no mind.
Daylight is coming
And it is time for her to rest
Until nightfall
when the Queen’s footsteps
Will once again tread softly.
In the darkness of the Tetons.
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