Lost in the Woods...

I apologize.
I pulled a Peter Pan maneuver.
I went away with saying anything first...

Bart, his father, aunt, a family friend and I whisked off to Door County, Wisconsin, for an extended weekend. We had a lovely time. It's just a great place to do the proverbial "nothing" and take it slow. My favorite part is always seeing the stars. Here in the city the lights overshadow the heavens. But in a clearing in the woods (where with the car lights off one cannot see one's hand in front of one's face) the very Milky Way shines above. When there I think about Ancient Peoples. How amazing the stars are to me, even with all the crammed in knowledge about their nature from schooling, etc. But to be enclosed in absolute darkness...with a multitude of glimmering pinpricks and washes of shimmering cloudiness... what it must have been like to experience. No wonder the Woods held such a grip on the imagination, fear and storytelling. The forests of Shakespearean plays, for instance, come alive anew. It's inspiring to say the least.

I'm sorry to have flown without warning. I'll try not to let it happen again.

What Wood You Remember?

The pictures in a recent blog post of Sunshine’s caused me to recall not only the way the area around my childhood home used to appear, but activities I partook of while there. Until now, it never quite occurred to me how it affected me.

Just blocks away from my house I could enter an expansive woods. My friends and I would go cavorting. We even made a map of the sort-of trails and had fun coming up with names. We’d trudge through, pretending to be all manner of things, I’m sure. From explorer to hobbit. Maybe even hobbit explorer.

In a different direction lay another woods. This one, as I recall, seemed much more savage. Zaph (who is no longer with us in this version of reality) and I used to carry a boom box blaring 80’s tunes and whatever else we deemed necessary to bring to his house. For that is why we’d trek through (besides the fun of it)…to reach his house. He lived in a huge home situated right amid the trees. It even has a lake with a pier. A gravel winding downward path serves as a driveway. The kind of downward path that made you call upon all of your driving skills and gave the impression of embarking on a grand adventure. But we would approach on foot through the back. Through the woods.

I also remember seeing bats flying over my backyard with great frequency. Coming from the direction of the woods, of course.

Thanks, Sunshine, for resurrecting these memories. It makes me think. Perhaps I enjoy fantasy stories because I had a place to act them out. Winding through bushes and tree trunks and over stones. It could have been the forest of Endor, Mirkwood, Sherwood, Tulgey Wood, Where the Wild Things Are, Tom & Huck’s island or the Neverland. With the bats and wildlife, is it any wonder I am attracted to such stories?

It’s all gone now, sadly. Totally suburbanized. The poor children there…they’ll have to hunt for fairies in their gardens, if they have them.

“So into the woods you go again, You have to every now and then.” - Sondheim