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Read moreOn the Creepy Trees Back Home
We were outside late the other night when my son pointed to a giant looming shadow at the edge of the yard. It was just a big ol’ oak tree, but in that first split second I froze, immediately empathetic. I was sure that his six-year-old imagination was filling his head with all sorts of devious explanations as to what he was seeing. Conducting myself as the very picture of “don’t panic,” I cool-mom-ed the situation with a nonchalant, “Oh yeah? What’s up, buddy?” He just grinned up at me. “Mom, I love creepy trees.”
A kid after my own heart. (But he is my son so, of course, he already has it. Duh.)
There are many things I miss about Alaska- alongside some dear friends, of course. The mountains, for sure. The endless sky. The endless blueberries and the midnight sun.
Despite all of these amazing things that really do just take your breath away, I always missed the woods back east. Beautiful, peaceful and just a bit spooky, they always offered a sense of comfort and familiarity. Yes, even on very Sleepy-Hollow-I-Am-Ichabod-Crane type nights. Maybe it’s in part because the sky does feel smaller here.
As I grew older I discovered a love of exploration. New England was my favorite and I would never tire of walking down forest paths or exploring long-abandoned sites (more on THIS to come later!). But despite the enjoyment I felt, I would be hard-pressed to say I truly appreciated the peace of mind that the landscape offered. Sometimes it’s just too easy to get caught up in the noise and the traffic- both the Turnpike traffic and the kind of traffic that comes with taking your work home and struggling to pay bills. When the opportunity to leave came, I latched onto it with some pretty eager talons.
You know that saying, “you can’t go back home”? It’s true that a lot changed in the years I was away. Businesses have come and gone, friends have moved away, new roads are being built… but the creepy trees- they remain the same. As I stand in our backyard, watching the chipmunks do their chipmunk thing and seeing the evidence of deer in the half-eaten hickory leaves, I get that feeling again. The sky is smaller, but this time the canopy is not constricting. It is a comfort like a blanket. I feel excited, I feel safe and I feel the pull to go back out. These creepy trees were there and will continue to be there. Maybe sometimes you do need to leave in order to finally find your way back home.