This week: The Woods Edited by: W.D.Wilcox More Newsletters By This Editor
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-Here in the forest, dark and deep, I offer you eternal sleep.
-As soon as the torch went out, the atmosphere of the forest intensified. As her eyes slowly became accustomed to the darkness she started to notice the outlines of canopies above them where trees were silhouetted against the pale moonlight.
-You grow up readin’ about pirates and cowboys and spacemen and stuff, and jus’ when you think the world’s full of amazin’ things, they tell you it’s really all dead whales, greed, chopped-down forests, and nucular waste hangin’ about for millions of years. Growin’ up ain’t worth it, if you ask me.
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A Night In The Woods
He to whom the conspiracy of night in the heart of a great forest needs not be told what another world it all is – how even the most commonplace and familiar objects take on another character. The trees group themselves differently; they draw closer together, as if in fear. The very silence has another quality than the silence of the day. And it is full of half-heard whispers, whispers that startle – ghosts of sounds long dead. There are living sounds, too, such as are never heard under other conditions: notes of strange night birds, the cries of small animals in sudden encounters with stealthy foes, or in their dreams, a rustling in the dead leaves – it may be the leap of a wood rat, it may be the footstep of a panther. What caused the breaking of that twig? What the low, alarmed twittering in that bush full of birds? There are sounds without a name, forms without substance, translations in space of objects which have not been seen to move, movements wherein nothing is observed to change its place. Ah, children of the sunlight and the electric light, how little you know of the world in which you live!
The sounds become more noticeable; the shuffling of an animal through the undergrowth, the whistling of the wind through the trees, and now and then the cry of some creature being captured in the darkness. As you sit quietly, the noises seemed to become louder until you feel absorbed into the forest world.
The unknown grayish mystifying forest becomes benumbed into frost-covered cold, and the tremendous pines towering above the dark marshy soil resemble a gathering of severe mute brothers from a forbidden ancient order worshiping forgotten gods no one has ever heard of outside of the world of secret occult visions.
Until next time,
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Dark Forests And Campfire Tales
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