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Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?
I have become a person who is afraid of the woods at night.
I hate that. Maybe that’s why it tried to be a question at first.
Is this what happens when a person, raised in the woods, moves to the city and lives too many years beneath street lights? Is this what age does? Age plus the rearing of two precious dogs which are loved beyond the bounds of life itself? I am afraid of what? Animals, large and quick and silent, lurking beyond the edge of what can be seen, perched upon a branch and ready to swoop, unannounced, here and gone in a flash and a missing dog with a yelp. My greatest fear. Second now only perhaps to one of them having a brain tumor and myself having no money to diagnose it, much less treat it, and no reasonable timeline anyway, if it were even possible. But that loss, the pending disappearance of my actual one true love of a dog from my life forever is not this fear of the forest after dusk. I confuse the two perhaps because it is on my mind. Because my breath stifles in a similar way to the uncertainty and aloneness that exist in both.
I think I do not feel so afraid of the forest at night when I am not alone. But I am usually alone. I have worked so hard to open my schedule and find my way into the woods but the city maintains a grasp on those I would choose to bring with me if I could. So I venture out alone. Myself and two precious dogs. And we face the possibilities that abound from coyotes to cougars to men with more axes than sanity (oh who knows!?).
When I am left to my own devices I avoid the things I love because I cannot let them be what they are instead of all the things my imagination is able to turn them into.
And so I have not been camping this year. I have not been road tripping and sleeping up dirt roads. I have not even sat out, even after the mosquitos have retired, to watch the stars. We are poised to be able to see the Perseids meteor shower, something I have always wanted to witness, and I have not stepped outside a few hours before dawn to gaze into the darkness and witness the wonder of atmosphere alighting against stone. I have, instead, stayed in bed. I have been awake late and thought of the possibility of wandering into that light show and feeling goosebumps, from the sight or from the cold air or maybe both. But I have remained between walls and beneath roof and only dreamed of living my dreams.