Favorite Pear Tree was in full bloom. That meant that it was spring, of course. Lovely white blossoms covered the tree, as well as all the other trees in the valley orchards. Bees hummed busily, and the fields too were covered with blooming wild flowers.

PearBear had a hard time deciding which season was his very favorite. Winter was nice of course. Snow and icicles were fun when you had a warm coat like his. Then again, maybe summer was nicest when it was sunny and hot and none of his friends were hibernating. Spring, as it was at this time, was certainly the prettiest season, and everything smelled like flowers. When he really thought hard about it, autumn, when the pears were ready to be picked probably was his truly favorite time.

While he was thinking about all this, he noticed a dried brown leaf clinging to Favorite Pear Tree's branches. It was easy to reach, so he put his paw up and started to pull the old leaf from the branch. It would look so much prettier to have the pear tree tidy while it had all the blossoms on it.

"Stop that, PearBear!" said the leaf.

"Oh, it's you, Bat." PearBear recognized Bat when he opened his eyes. "I've always meant to ask you, why do you hang head down like that? You are upside down."

"No, I'm not upside down. You are upside down," responded Bat. "Besides, the view is much better from here."

"I certainly feel right side up to me," replied PearBear. "What do you mean, the view is better?"

"Well, what do you see when you look down?" asked Bat.

"I see my feet. Oh, . . . and the ground. But mostly feet." PearBear was looking down at his feet. "Hmmm," he thought, "Really not very interesting, looking at your feet. Not very interesting at all."


"Well, when I look down . . . which is up to you . . . I see blue sky, and bees humming, and white blossoms, and robins building a nest. I see birds flying, and I see white clouds, and I see branches moving gently with a spring breeze," Bat explained. "I don't see my feet because mine are much tinier than yours are. They don't get in the way of the view. No offense, PearBear. We all are what we are."

PearBear considered all of this, and decided that possibly Bat was on to something that he had never thought about. Perhaps, he thought, he should try to see for himself what the view was like looking down. No, that was up, wasn't it?

"I think I'll try it myself," he said to Bat.

"If I were you, I'd find a larger branch to try it on. At least at first. You may find that you really don't care for looking down at all."

"You mean up, don't you?" asked PearBear.

"You'll get the hang of it," Bat responded with a sigh.

"Oh, that was a good joke, Bat," PearBear laughed.

"What joke?" asked Bat.

"Oh, never mind." PearBear realized that Bat wasn't making a joke at all. Just conversation.

"Now be careful, PearBear, if you really insist on doing this. Bears were not meant to do what bats do. In fact, hardly anyone else is. If you're a bat, you're a bat. When you are a bear, you are a bear. You could have a very nice view of the sky and all by just laying down on the ground and looking up. Bat was worried about the bear's safety, and thought that he wasn't showing very good sense.

"Nonsense, Bat. Bears are excellent tree climbers. That is one of the first things my mother taught me. Now, I'll just find a good strong limb on Favorite Pear Tree."

PearBear selected a large strong branch and climbed up into the tree. He was surrounded by all the lovely pear blossoms, and it was very pretty up in the tree, he thought.

Then, he carefully bent his knees over the branch, holding on with his paws, and slowly lowered himself until he was hanging head down like Bat. "Hmmm," he thought. "This isn't what I expected."

"Bat," he said. "I don't see any sky or birds. I just see red and white spots before my eyes! Is that what you see too?"

Bat sighed. "PearBear, your red and white checkered neck napkin has fallen in front of your face. Get down and turn it to the back."

"Oh. Yes. I knew that the minute you told me." PearBear climbed down from the tree, turned his napkin around to the back and climbed up again. Hanging head down was easier this time. A breeze came along, and he and Bat were swinging gently back and forth. It was quite nice and the view was every bit as interesting as Bat had said it was. PearBear was so delighted he hummed a little tune and made up a poem with these words.

Swinging by my knees

With a soft little breeze

While listening to the bees.

What would happen if I sneeze,

Hanging head down in the trees?

Bat said, "PearBear, that is absolutely the worst poem I have ever heard! Everything ends in 'eeeee's. Why don't you let me get some sleep? I work nights, you know."

"Oh, sorry, Bat. I'll just hum softly." PearBear replied. Bat sighed and closed his eyes again. He thought that perhaps he should find another tree to sleep in tomorrow.

The two of them stayed there the rest of the afternoon, with heads pointed to the ground, enjoying the clouds and the hum of the bees.

Finally, Bat said, "It's getting dusk now. Time for me to get to my nightly chase after gnats and mosquitoes. I see them starting to fly, and you'll notice the bees have gone home. You'd better come down from there too, PearBear. You are not used to this, you know."

"Oh, I'm really enjoying swinging here upside down," PearBear responded.

"You mean downside up," said Bat.

"Whatever. I'll just stay a few minutes more, and then go home to supper."

"I don't think that's a good idea at all, but I simply must flit off now. You will get down soon? Promise?" Bat spread his wings and zipped off into the darkening sky.

Shortly, PearBear decided that he was hungry and ought to think about what he would have for supper. Starting with dessert, as he often did, he thought that a poached pear with vanilla yogurt might be nice. In fact, it sounded so delicious that he didn't get any farther than dessert. He decided to climb down and start home.

He'd plan the rest of his meal on the way home.

He pulled on one of his legs, which didn't seem to want to budge at all. Then he pulled on his other leg. That one didn't come loose either.

He pulled some more, reaching up with his paws to help. Then he noticed that he was in a different spot than when he had started out. All that gentle swinging had moved him along on the branch until he was caught between two branches now. How embarrassing!

He kept trying to pull his legs loose, and seemed only to get more tightly wedged between the branches.

A long time went by, when he heard a familiar voice say, "PearBear, would you care to tell me what in the world you are doing?"



Story Continues in Part 2