A lot of you might be thinking after reading the heading of this story
that I might be some kind of alcoholic. Or, you could be thinking that I
quit drinking because I now have cirrhosis of the liver because of too
much vodka. These theories and any others you might be thinking of
couldn't be further from the truth.
It all started when I recently went to Wisconsin on vacation and I ended up getting lost in the deep woods.
I wasn't afraid of wandering around in the forest not knowing exactly
where I was because, as a youth, I was a Cub Scout. I knew that moss
grew on the north side of rocks and on the lower part of tree trunks because direct sunlight will dry up the fragile plants. At night, the
Northern Star is, well, always in the north. That swiftly moving water in
streams is safer to drink than pools of stagnant puddles. I know how to identify
poison ivy, poison oak, and poison sumac from pictures I saw in my Cub Scout book. And that all
berries are not edible.
So I was pretty sure I would find my way out of the dense woodland
before I died of starvation or thirst. Besides, I had about five protein
bars, two bottles of water, a blanket, and a pint of scotch in my
backpack.
What got me to relax, or put down my guard, was the beautiful red and
orange sunset, gleaming through the branches of all the trees.
The air was warm, birds were chirping, and crickets scratched their
legs as I laid there watching the wonderful colors reflecting off the
leaves.
That is when I thought to myself, what would a couple of swigs from my bottle of whiskey hurt?
A couple turned into three, then four, and then the whole bottle.
I started stumbling in the dark, determined with a clouded mind, to
find my way to civilization and get more booze. Foolishly, I didn't check my bearings with the North
Star. I just kept wandering deeper into the woods.
Finally, the alcohol took its toll on me. I laid down and went to sleep.
It's when I woke up that I became frightened.
The boughs and trunks of all the surrounding trees were curved in
strange ways. A lot of them were toppled over by being uprooted. And the
usual vibrant vegetation which covered the ground around those trees,
was now dirt or thinning grassland.
I started walking again, noticing there wasn't a sound except the rustling of leaves from a mild breeze.
As the wind increased, the noise grew louder. Branches looked as if
they were waving at me to hurry up, pointing in the direction I
should go.
The
wind grew and the sound from the creaking trees told me I was in
danger. I believe I heard tiny little voices talking about me.
That alone told me that I should run.
Gale force wind started breaking off branches and blowing over trees,
as if the wind was throwing those limbs at me. On more than one occasion I had
to dive out of the way of a pointed broken branch which was thrown in my
direction or get skewered like a shish kabob.
I feared for my life. The forest was alive and I felt like I did something to anger it.
I ran and ran, as fast as I could. Suddenly, falling over an old log,
rolling down a steep embankment, and landing in the middle of a paved
road.
Screeching wheels and the smell of burnt rubber stopped inches from my
head. An old country gent quickly got out of his car and asked, "Are you
all right?"
I screamed, "The forest is alive and it's trying to kill me!"
He started laughing, telling me, "You city folks are so damn funny.
That's the drunken forest. These woods have a lot of groundwater beneath them, almost like a swamp, where the roots of the trees can't take a
strong foothold. These woods are always moving, changing, and being
uprooted with the slightest of
breeze."
But I knew better. It was the fairies of the forest who tried to kill
me, because I desecrated their sacred ground somehow. I vowed then and there
that I would never drink again. Why risk the wrath of fairies who can
manipulate trees or vegetation so they can extirpate me because of my
obnoxious behavior!
"I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies,
the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to
say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?" - John Lennon -
That is my story and I am sticking to it!
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Were you in the Rawson Woods?
ReplyDeleteThe very last line of the Post say I made it all up and Fairies are real. Which they are. If anything, the story is closer to where I stay in Virginia! Glad to hear from you virtual idiot
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