It's been a rainy dark day here. And now the wind is picking up pretty heavily.
So, I went out to let the dog do his business, rain be damned. Leash in one hand, cell phone flashlight in the other, as it's well past sunset.
I begin walking along the path through the trees, just out of the range of my phone's bright glow, something rustles in the wind, low to the ground. I see it out of the corner of my eye, amidst the inky blackness, and I feel the familiar hollow pang of fear hit my stomach.
As I take another step forward, it's visage clears, it is a blackberry vine.
Fear is a primal instinct. That we do not get away from wholely. No matter how civilized and advanced we get. The forest dark will always haunt the imagination.
So, I went out to let the dog do his business, rain be damned. Leash in one hand, cell phone flashlight in the other, as it's well past sunset.
I begin walking along the path through the trees, just out of the range of my phone's bright glow, something rustles in the wind, low to the ground. I see it out of the corner of my eye, amidst the inky blackness, and I feel the familiar hollow pang of fear hit my stomach.
As I take another step forward, it's visage clears, it is a blackberry vine.
Fear is a primal instinct. That we do not get away from wholely. No matter how civilized and advanced we get. The forest dark will always haunt the imagination.