Monsters in the Forest
A voice whispers in my ear “hedges were once built to keep scary things in the forest.” As we run down the hill and away from the fog, my dog looks behind us and picks up the pace. I look too, wary of the dark woods alongside us. It’s stormy today and the wind is blowing, trees sway with each gust making me anxious as they swing towards the path. This must be the origins of Halloween, the change in seasons from light to dark. Days begins to fade, bright summer greens turn to orange and red, storms multiply, darkness falls when once we could see. An eerie feel abounds as we run home in the last light of the day, no more hedges to keep us safe. Gunshots echo in the distance. Last week we stumbled upon the head of a deer with no body, yesterday a magpie hung from the trees, today a dead porcupine, bones on the trail are a graveyard. Something’s been feasting out here. Ravens caw. A wolf howling could be a man turning as the moonrises, the breeze a ghost, black spaces between the trees a monster with no name. Whatever it is, I’d rather not know.