How to Photograph Wild Animals and Mourn While Drunk in a National Wildlife Refuge By Renee Williams

First thing, stop at the Lost Colony Brewery on the waterfront

in Nag’s Head, see the bartender, Dirt, and order

up a Holy Hand Grenade to put you out of your misery.

One should be all that you need. It’s a dark Russian 

Imperial Stout that you’ll need to chew through. Grab 

a slice of Benny Tesoro’s pizza while you’re at it. 

You should have some of your wits about you for 

later in the night.

Leave nearly at sunset. It will take awhile

to get to the Refuge, and once there, you won’t

want to leave. Black bears, otters, coyotes 

are more active in the early evening. 

Yes, the area was used for 

moonshining, logging, murders, who knows what?

And who gives a damn if the place 

is haunted? After what you’ve been through

a ghost might be a welcome sight because 

heaven knows you have questions. 

Drive down Buffalo City Road and look.

Just look above you in the trees, behind you,

and beside you. Pray that your designated 

driver just had a Hatteras Red at the bar

because he’ll need to be more sober than 

you are. Red wolves roam these roads,

bobcats, too, and when you do get out 

of the car, watch yourself. Don’t step in

the ditches because a cottonmouth might

be hidden there, and trust me, 

you’d rather see that bloody corpse coming

at you than those fangs wrapped around

your ankle.

God willing you were smart enough prior

to inebriation to put on your zoom lens

because you probably shouldn’t get too close 

to the black bears—nor waste any time.

Yeah, they look hefty enough

munching on those soybeans and the like,

moving at pace of a caterpillar, but trust me,

you have to keep your eyes on those bears

and be ready with your camera because

they can move, especially when they 

are feeling threatened, and let’s face it:

since that meniscus surgery, you’re not

in danger of winning any marathons. 

If you’re lucky, you may get to spend

time with a bear. It may sit on an

embankment to nibble on thistle, bugs,

or swat away flies. Juveniles are just

as lost and confused as you, having

been tossed aside by their mothers 

to fend and forage on their own. 

Chances are, you two have a lot

to discuss. You might ask that 

bear how it feels not to call

his mother every day or evening,

and even though you’re 60 now,

you’ve just become an orphan, 

like this fella. You may tell him

that your mother left you just

a few months ago, up and died,

and even after all this time,

you weren’t ready, either. 

Snap a few shots for good measure

and while no one is looking,

wipe the tears away. Set your camera

down and tell your partner the battery

is dead, even though you both know

that isn’t the truth, and just gaze into the

bear’s eyes. Maybe then neither of you

will feel so alone. 

Renee Williams is a retired English instructor, who has written for Guitar Digest, Alien Buddha Press and Fevers of the Mind.