In The Woods

Hello everyone. For those of you in the Minnesota area, it’s nice to say that we’re finally getting a taste of spring! Frances Tallarico, who authored Snow Globe back in February, has treated us with another of her stories. Frances uses real-life experiences combined with a creative imagination to come up with her clever ideas. In today’s story, her walk through the woods was very real. Her inspiration was very real. The rest was the result of her creative interpretation. I hope you all enjoy it!

Frances also publishes a very interesting blog about her travels and experiences, and for anyone interested, here is the link: https://lifeculture.travel.blog. Check it out!

In The Woods

By Frances Tallarico

Hiking among the magnificent redwoods fills me with awe. The narrow trail winds up along the Smith River, rising from gently sloping to steep, with steps cut into the soil in some places to facilitate the climb. I’m surprised to see rhododendrons in bloom along the path, as well as wild Douglas iris, and a variety of other flowering plants and berries. The new-grown tips of the redwood trees are soft and feathery. A wall of ferns feels silky.

It’s hot, but there’s a refreshing breeze. I don’t know how long I’ve walked, and I’m thirsty. I see a tree stump and decide to sit, rest, and drink some water. I’m deep enough into the woods that I hear only the sound the wind makes as it whispers to the trees, and birds singing. Their songs are different from ones I’m used to hearing. I sing a song of made-up words about how beautiful the trees and sky are, and how happy I feel to be here.

“That’s nice.” I hear someone say. I’m startled. I thought I was alone. “More please.”

I look around and realize that what I thought was a tree, was actually an extraordinarily tall person, covered with shaggy hair. 

“I don’t normally talk to humans, but I don’t think you’d hurt me, and you’re happy.” His voice was soft, calm. “Everyday, I come to look at the river. I can stand in the trees and people don’t see me, although they look for me.” I noticed that he did blend in with the trees. It was his stillness. “Be careful. You’re vulnerable alone in the woods,” he said.

“From wild animals?”

“No, other humans.”

“Most people are nice.” I say, and then realize that as I’d be afraid of a bear, he was afraid of humans. “Has a human ever hurt you?”

“No, but I see what they do to other creatures and to each other.”

I sit quietly beside him, enjoying his presence, letting time pass.

“What you’re looking for, I think you’ve found it.” He sighed.

The wind sighed.

I sighed.