Wednesday, April 22, 2015

The Mist in the Trees

The brisk breeze tingles my skin and hands as I step out onto my front porch this chilly October morning. It’s a quiet morning, only the gentle sway of the trees that surround my house to keep me company with the sun barely peeking over the horizon. I can barely see them from the mist that sticks and covers them like swirling cotton. A shiver runs down my spine as my body adjusts to the sudden temperature change stepping out of the comfortable confines of my one story bungalow. It’s cold enough that I can see my breath. I bring up my favorite owl coffee cup to my face and let the aroma and steam warm my face before taking a long sip of my morning java. It’s a small ritual I do every morning before I go to work, just some quiet time, alone with my thoughts; before I have to hop in the car and head to the office.

                I moved out to the woods as a way to clear my head. I tired of city life, and saved enough money to purchase a house and escape the noise, the lights, and the people. I wasn’t the young, night-life seeking party girl of my twenties. No, it was time to find a place to settle down in a place of my own, etch out my own little corner in the world, and one day maybe get married if the right guy came along. What better way to get started than to plant yourself smack dab in the middle of nature? The thought of severing most of my ties with the world filled me with excitement. I even bought books on North American wildlife, binoculars, and even a nice camera. I admit I went a tad overboard, but I couldn’t be happier with my decision.

                I take another sip of my Sumatran blend, savoring the splash of almond milk and stevia mixed within the coffee, sniffling back a runny nose. Since moving in a few months ago, I’ve spent a lot of time here on my porch. When I first moved in, I thought I found paradise. The place was a steal, hardly had to negotiate the price down at all. Sure, the house needed some updating, but I saw it as an opportunity for molding the house into my dream castle. This place would be my own.
               
                When I met with my realtor and she handed me the keys to the place, she told me something I found a bit strange at the time. “Don’t go into the woods. It may look pretty, but it’s full of life.” At the time, I thought she was just offering some advice, thinking I’m some sort of naïve city girl. I brushed it off and got to work painting and cleaning before my possessions arrived later that week.

                On the day before my big move, I stayed longer than I expected, until late into the evening. I stepped outside to cool down when something occurred to me. I lived in the middle of the woods, but I couldn’t hear a single noise: no bird calls, no howling dogs, no hooting owls, insect cries, or anything. Thinking back, I didn’t remember hearing any animals during the course of the week. I only heard the rustling of leaves in the wind. I closed my eyes in anticipation of the breeze, but none came to relieve me from the still night air. To this day, I have yet to hear the cry of a single animal around my house.

                Now and again when driving to or from home, I’ll see a vehicle on the side of the road to the woods. They build up over time before the city comes and tows them away. The officers don’t even bother to give the offending cars tickets anymore, a waste of valuable paper I guess.  

                There’s also the shoes. I’ll often find pairs of shoes flung haphazardly on the side of the road. Sneakers, running shoes, dress shoes, high heels, I’ve seen them all, each covered in a filmy slime that eats away the outer layer. Sometimes there’s a purse, or a briefcase, but I always see the shoes. I’d be upset about the litter, but they dissolve in about a week.


                My mug is empty now. I should probably get ready for work now. I take one more glance at the woods and the mist that covers them.  I have to be fast, there hasn’t been an abandoned vehicle in a week, and I know they’re hungry, and that’ll make them desperate. As I turn to head back inside, my eyes fall on the woods from the other side of the field. There is no mist there. I sigh, watching the breath from my mouth dissipate into nothingness. I wish I was back in the city, surrounded by concrete, steel, and glass, instead of swaying, breathing, and ravenous trees.