Go Back to Your Woods
Throughout history and literature the "woods" have been a symbol of places dark and foreboding. Grimm tales, Salem witchcraft, the legend of Sleepy Hollow, the Boogie man, Bigfoot & Sasquatch sightings- all of these stories are burned into our human psyche prompting us to be fearful of what lies beyond the darkened tree line.
I have heard that many of the Grimm fairy tales served a protective purpose by instilling a healthy fear of the woods into young children who may be tempted to wander. Their parents were not afraid that scary monsters would kidnap their children, rather they were fearful that their children would be killed by the real creatures that inhabited the woods-wolves, bears, etc. So, stories of the boogie man and witches were used as a tactic to keep children from venturing too far into the deep, dark woods. Like in the movie The Village.
I spent a lot of my childhood playing in the woods that surrounded our neighborhood. Before my teenage diet consisted of MTV, Atari and General Hospital, my friends and I would romp through the woods. Those days were filled with hot, sticky Florida fun that involved playing Charlie's Angels or acting out other adventure type scenarios that we gained through movies like the Goonies and Indiana Jones. I don't think my parents were ever concerned about us playing in the woods, either.
But dangers really did lurk in those woods. Usually it was pretty harmless fun out there. Most of the woods backed up to the Florida canal system that links the swamps to the intercoastal, and eventually to the Altlantic ocean. So there were potential dangers in the form of alligators and water moccasins, but I don't recall ever seeing any. I do recall a little boy drowning in one of those canals, but I don't think it was the one we frequented in our backwoods adventures. I remember listening to the radio station the day they were searching for his body. One of the boy's older brothers had called into the radion station to request a song. They played "He's Not Heavy, He's My Brother" and it was pretty sad and poignant moment in my childhood.
I also recall the hunter my friend and I came across in our roaming too. He was just kind of standing there in camouflague with his rifle propped up next to him. Just standing there. It kind of freaked me out as we came upon him. I was always a chicken shit when it came to strangers.
My parents really instilled that stranger danger into me, almost to the point of me being kind of freakish about it. Any guy with a beard and long hair was scary to me, (especially when you throw beer cans out the window of your car when I'm walking home from school.) Seeing that part of my childhood spanned the 1970s the odds that I would see a man with long hair were pretty grand so I spent a lot of time avoiding them.
Anyway, my first instinct when we happened upon this hunter was flight, so I abruptly retreated from the situation. I couldn't believe that my friend decided to strike up a conversation with the hunter. She had nerves of steel, I tell you. Fortunately he was not hunting humans, nor was he a escaped psychotic waiting to kill young girls strolling through the woods.
The other really scary moment was when we encountered another man in the woods. This guy was pretty normal looking, about 40ish and wearing what could be described as business casual clothes-which was very odd. He was also carrying a paper sack. My freak-o-meter was beeping and buzzing at the sight of this man, so again my instinct was to get as far the hell away from him as I could.
The man then reached into the paper sack he was carrying and pulled out what looked like a gun. He didn't point it at us, and thankfully he didn't shoot us. In fact her really didn't look at us or acknowledge our presence. Nonetheless, we had no idea why a normal dressed man was in the woods carrying a paper bag and pulling out guns on innocent unsuspecting children scaring them silly. At the time I remember we had some theories, but the most likely conclusion we settled on was that he was growing weed out there and the gun was his protection against renegades and thieves. We never found any evidence to fully support this theory, but it was the best we could come up.
The woods, for me, were a magical and adventurous place where the neighborhood kids got a chance to act out their fantasies in a harmless and active way. This was way before Grand Theft Auto. But despite the fantasy world we thought we created, there was still that element of danger lurking out there. It's quite a paradox for me. The woods represent a peaceful and therapeutic place where I find my troubles and worries slip away. Sitting by a campfire looking up at the trees and the stars is where I find peace and healing. Woodland fairies and nymphs are the supernatural creatures of the woods that I like to think about instead of boogie men and skunk apes.
But that's not to say that I'm not terrified that a homicidal maniac wielding a chainsaw is going to cut me up into little pieces inside my tent when I go camping.
I have heard that many of the Grimm fairy tales served a protective purpose by instilling a healthy fear of the woods into young children who may be tempted to wander. Their parents were not afraid that scary monsters would kidnap their children, rather they were fearful that their children would be killed by the real creatures that inhabited the woods-wolves, bears, etc. So, stories of the boogie man and witches were used as a tactic to keep children from venturing too far into the deep, dark woods. Like in the movie The Village.
I spent a lot of my childhood playing in the woods that surrounded our neighborhood. Before my teenage diet consisted of MTV, Atari and General Hospital, my friends and I would romp through the woods. Those days were filled with hot, sticky Florida fun that involved playing Charlie's Angels or acting out other adventure type scenarios that we gained through movies like the Goonies and Indiana Jones. I don't think my parents were ever concerned about us playing in the woods, either.
But dangers really did lurk in those woods. Usually it was pretty harmless fun out there. Most of the woods backed up to the Florida canal system that links the swamps to the intercoastal, and eventually to the Altlantic ocean. So there were potential dangers in the form of alligators and water moccasins, but I don't recall ever seeing any. I do recall a little boy drowning in one of those canals, but I don't think it was the one we frequented in our backwoods adventures. I remember listening to the radio station the day they were searching for his body. One of the boy's older brothers had called into the radion station to request a song. They played "He's Not Heavy, He's My Brother" and it was pretty sad and poignant moment in my childhood.
I also recall the hunter my friend and I came across in our roaming too. He was just kind of standing there in camouflague with his rifle propped up next to him. Just standing there. It kind of freaked me out as we came upon him. I was always a chicken shit when it came to strangers.
My parents really instilled that stranger danger into me, almost to the point of me being kind of freakish about it. Any guy with a beard and long hair was scary to me, (especially when you throw beer cans out the window of your car when I'm walking home from school.) Seeing that part of my childhood spanned the 1970s the odds that I would see a man with long hair were pretty grand so I spent a lot of time avoiding them.
Anyway, my first instinct when we happened upon this hunter was flight, so I abruptly retreated from the situation. I couldn't believe that my friend decided to strike up a conversation with the hunter. She had nerves of steel, I tell you. Fortunately he was not hunting humans, nor was he a escaped psychotic waiting to kill young girls strolling through the woods.
The other really scary moment was when we encountered another man in the woods. This guy was pretty normal looking, about 40ish and wearing what could be described as business casual clothes-which was very odd. He was also carrying a paper sack. My freak-o-meter was beeping and buzzing at the sight of this man, so again my instinct was to get as far the hell away from him as I could.
The man then reached into the paper sack he was carrying and pulled out what looked like a gun. He didn't point it at us, and thankfully he didn't shoot us. In fact her really didn't look at us or acknowledge our presence. Nonetheless, we had no idea why a normal dressed man was in the woods carrying a paper bag and pulling out guns on innocent unsuspecting children scaring them silly. At the time I remember we had some theories, but the most likely conclusion we settled on was that he was growing weed out there and the gun was his protection against renegades and thieves. We never found any evidence to fully support this theory, but it was the best we could come up.
The woods, for me, were a magical and adventurous place where the neighborhood kids got a chance to act out their fantasies in a harmless and active way. This was way before Grand Theft Auto. But despite the fantasy world we thought we created, there was still that element of danger lurking out there. It's quite a paradox for me. The woods represent a peaceful and therapeutic place where I find my troubles and worries slip away. Sitting by a campfire looking up at the trees and the stars is where I find peace and healing. Woodland fairies and nymphs are the supernatural creatures of the woods that I like to think about instead of boogie men and skunk apes.
But that's not to say that I'm not terrified that a homicidal maniac wielding a chainsaw is going to cut me up into little pieces inside my tent when I go camping.
posted by amyd | 2:03 PM
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