The bear went over the mountain to see what he could see. With each verse, the preschoolers named the animal in a photo held up by the music teacher. And all that he could see, and all that he could see was:
- a deer
- a baby bird
- a chickmump
- a what?
Took these snapshots with my Kodak Brownie Starmite in August of '68. My little sister is feeding a chickmumps at Bear Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park. My brother [not shown] is standing on a big boulder down by the lake trying to skip rocks. I'm thirteen.
The bear went over the mountain and saw my cute parents. I didn't know they were so cute at the time, just sitting there enjoying each other on a mountain picnic--a Budweiser, crackers, cheese, and salami from the Scotch cooler. Mom's wearing her brown Koret windbreaker and matching skirt. She was proud to be slim, and had treated herself to some new summer clothes.
The shopping trip to Simon's at Gateway is vivid in my memory. Must have been the first time Mom sent me out of the fitting room to fetch different colors and sizes. I got to offer my opinion. Then as now, I voted for brown.
I'm sad to be in my fifties and just realizing that my parents were cute. We must have to go over a mountain to reach the point where we can see what we can see.© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder