“There is a serene and settled majesty to woodland scenery that enters into the soul and delights and elevates it, and fills it with noble inclinations.” ~ Washington Irving
It was just a little valley, at the bottom of which ran a small stream that ran quickly or quietly depending on the rainfall. On this day, it was barely a murmur in the distance when I entered the forest, leaving my car nearby, and departing the remaining light of day behind as well; behind the curtain of the woods the canopy of the trees deepens and darkens the shadows. I’d forgotten that, at this time of afternoon at this time of the year, the sun disappeared quickly, without warning, and that dangerous alacrity left the unmindful particularly susceptible to getting caught deeper than one would like. That was in the back of my mind as I began my walk in the woods.
The forest floor was carpeted with leaves. At this point many of them had been torn from their limbs and littered the ground, which, much like a snowfall, made it slightly more difficult to discern the path that led down into the valley. Wet or dry, leaves could be slippery, lending an additional risk on the deeper inclines. There was the slightest warning on the wind, in the gentle breeze that suddenly picked up, rustling the leaves that remained on the trees. They shook and shimmied, quivering and wavering as if taking on the chill that deepened as the day waned and the path led further into the forest.
Ferns dotted the banks, most of them still green, though a few had turned ghostly pale, drained of their verdant life, an echo of their summer selves. There was a hint of darkness to them as well, a darkness and shadow that seeped under each leaf, inhabiting every crevice of bark and stem.
In the fallen logs there was evidence of new life – moss and lichens and little plants had already made homes of the decaying wood. Even the wayward traveler could make temporary use of them as benches and places of rest. I didn’t pause to take part. The day was dimming. If I dallied, there was danger of getting caught at the bottom when the darkness descended. Already, I felt a slightly thrilling unease at the thought of losing myself there.
Still, I took my time, taking in every step and being mindful of the beauty all around me. Fall was such a fleeting state, too often gone before we ever got to embrace it. Slowing my steps, I took a deep breath of the forest air. Woodland intoxication ensued, that euphoric state of sensory overload that comes from an immersive experience wholly beyond a sad little computer screen. There was the slightest shiver of something sinister to it as well, the way a very good cologne has a tiny portion of something putrid deep at its heart. The spell of the woods had been cast…
