The wood and the trees…

A relative of mine is in hospital. A dog scratch stared it all. She’s old and at her age it doesn’t take much to disturb the creatures in the forest - just a dog scratch to set the beasts sniffing at the air.

I think that most of us live on the edge of the forest, I know I do. It’s an okay place to be; far enough away from the trees to be safe but close enough to make it interesting. You can see a lot from the edge – birds and squirrels, a darting fox, even the occasional badger or deer. You hear a lot too - the deeper more dangerous things as they thrash around in the depths bellowing and battling. I think I know what they are, so I don’t often think about them - or at least I try not to.

On bright moonlit nights, when my imagination kicks in, I’m sometimes tempted to walk into the forest and keep walking. Maybe I’d come out the other side. But what if I got lost? What if I became worse than lost and don’t come out at all? What if the dangerous things smell me?

Of course sometimes you are forced by circumstance or bad chance into the forest - illness, accident, relationships, job, even a dog scratch might take you there. If you’re lucky you’ll stay close to the edge so that you can always see your way out. But sometimes you can find yourself wandering deeper and deeper until the outside isn’t there any more - just trees. All you can see is trees.

Best keep my imagination this side of the forest, keep my fingers crossed and try to avoid the pull of the moonlight.

I’m not going in there just yet.