Henri........
Out behind your house there are these woods. Not just any old woods, but scary woods. The kind of woods that make you afraid of the dark. The kind of dark in the woods that stops you in your tracks just to speed up your heart. The kind of branches in these woods that reach down into your chest and slow down your breath. Branches wrapping around your neck controlling your throat. The kind of branches that force you to make noises.
The high pitch squeal of somebody holding their breath and slowly letting it out. Followed by the low and wispy inhale.
The kind of woods that harbor insects of unknown variety. The kind of insects that crawl up your socks and grab on to your leg hairs. The kind of insects that follow up your legs to your lower back where they breed and colonize. Insects carrying other insects all crawling up and down your spine. All crawling on your back, reaching around to your ribs.
The kind of woods that has birds.
The kind of woods that has owls.
The kind of woods that has crows.
The kind of woods that has hawks.
The kind of birds that watch you. The kind of owls that make noises in the trees. The kind of crows looking down on you, judging you. The kind of hawks that laugh as you crawl and writhe from the insects and the branches and the dark. The kind of hawks that bellow out laughter.
Why would you ever want to end up in these woods? And why are you here? Why are you here being watched and colonized and strangled and trapped?
You are searching for Henri, your pet rabbit. What, with all the hawks and owls Henri could easily be toast. As a matter of fact toast wouldn't be so bad for Henri, at least he'd have his dignity.
You and Henri were curled up on the couch.
you an Henri were eating ice cream.
you and Henri were watching America's top model.
you love Tyra Banks.
Henri walked out the back door.
You watched a commercial for crest whitestrips.
Henri hopped across the back lawn.
you watched a teaser for house.
Henri trotted away.
you finished your ice cream.
Henri got lost.
For these type of situations you have developed a special call. You taught it to Henri soon after he found you. Henri always came to the call, two short low whistles followed by one long high whistle and you would give him a treat of yogurt. A treat of butterscotch.
For these type of situations you were prepared, rabbits after all, have great hearing.
(although their ears are particularly large for thermo regulation, they can hear exceptionally well.)
So you take another step and peel away the branches. You take another step and breathe. Slowly, you are not so scared. Shaking the insects from your back, you straighten up. The dark isn't so much bad now that you are used to it. The woods aren't so scary when you can see so you let out a whistle, a little Henri call. whoooop whooop wheeeep. Henri Henri woop whooop weeeeep. You crouch down on the cool earth and put one ear toward the ground, leaving the other to the sky. You put one of your hands on its damp and mossy surface, straighten your gaze and whoop whoop weep."Henri!?"
Nothing, says the woods.
Nothing, says the trees.
Nothing, says all the creatures of the forest.
Deeper in the woods you roam (making sure to stay on the trail), keeping two ears open.
In this circumstance your senses seem heightened. You can hear your own heart beat. You can almost feel the trees before you see them. You know where to place each foot. You can pinpoint any sound.
Now, Where would you go if you were a bunny?
Left, or right.?
Far, or near?
High or low?
Henri is a white rabbit, mostly white with a brown mottled color. His cute little feet are all white. His fluffy little tail, also white. Henri looks like a child had painted him. Henri looks like a paint by numbers if you only had brown and white. Number four and number eleven.
Thinking back to the day when Henri found you. You did not meet. You did not purchase, you did not come across Henri Henri came across you.
Henri was in your car when you came back from the ice cream shop. Popping in to say hello to a friend and getting caught up with an old one. You had left your diver's side door wide open.
As a matter of fact most rabbits will cower around too much daylight.
Most rabbits aren't particularly fond of heading into lights at night (moths, yes, rabbits, not so much) given that they are natural prey and all. Given that they are secretive animal and all.
Henri, though, was attracted to your dome lights and decided he would investigate. He did not think it was the moon, he did not think it was the north star. He was simply put into a trance. You had simply left your door open. Your life was open.
"That's it. I should have guessed!" you exclaim, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the dark woods. Your exclamation has no precedence in these woods. Your exclamation didn't escape five feet in these woods.
You remembered. Henri likes light. He must like light. Henri has probably moved out across the woods. He has probably been attracted to somebody's dome light. To somebody's headlights.
But, thinking of this scenario, it is still best to process all of your options. So you continue.
These are the things that they teach you as a child. These are the things you cannot teach a rabbit.
1. If ever you are lost the best thing to do is stay in one place.
2.If ever you are lost in a crowd, find high ground so that others can see you and so that you can see others.
3. If ever you are lost in the woods remember to look up at the moon, or sun, to keep your bearings.
4. If ever you are lost and people are searching for you it is a good idea to leave a trail and make noises. A high pitch whistle would work and even better if it was preceded by two short low whistles. A nice woop wooop weeeeeep would be perfect if you were lost.
4. If ever you are lost in the city find a police officer.
5. If ever you are lost for a long period of time the best thing you can do for yourself is make a shelter. (Humans mostly die of exposure rather than thirst or hunger)
But, you cannot teach these things to a rabbit. Rabbits are natural born survivors in their own way. Rabbits, as i have stated earlier, are natural prey. They have instincts.
You have been in these woods before. You have ventured into the depths of these woods when you were younger. When your friends and you had built forts. When you played tag. When you ran through the woods like wild animals. A favorite game to play was called "hunter". One person was the animal or prey. This person would run ahead on the trail. This person, the prey, would stay within twenty feet of the trail and hide. And all of the hunters would walk along the trail, carrying their found tree branches and sticks and dragging their shoelaces. All of the hunters would walk along the trail and push each other and stick fight and look for the prey. They would poke fun at each other, they would laugh and call each other sissies; all the while hunting. The person that spotted the prey would pick who got to be the next prey. If this group of hunters walked past and did not spot the prey then the prey got to pick who was next.
A harmless little game. You were always the prey.
The woods look much different now. And the parts that actually do look familiar are fewer and farther between. The woods have a different feeling at night. Finding Henri has become a bit of a mental struggle. One part of you wants to stay on the trail, as it is comfortable. One part of you knows that rabbits rarely use trails. If you were to find Henri somewhere in these woods, you would most likely not find Henri on a trail. You would most likely not find him within twenty feet of the trail. You would most likely walk by, with your shoelaces dragging behind you. Henri would most likely not jump out into the trail and pick you next to be the prey.
The need, or want to stay on a trail is very humanistic of you.
The need, or want of leaving the trail is very primal of you.
Over and over and over in your head you are fighting. You are equating possible outcomes. You are balancing your fear and weighing the possibilities. You are judging and understanding. The idea of losing Henri is being weighted out against your fear of the dark woods. The idea of leaving the trail is being shot down time and time again by your instincts.
Humans build roads. Humans travel in groups. Humans create towns and religions and colonies. They chop down all the trees so they do not have to deal with the fright. They make goals and aspirations and figure ways of achieving them. They are taught to be efficient. Humans are altering their world to better suite themselves. Humans do not want to leave the trail. Humans would rather die, they would rather give up then create a new path. Why the heck would you take two different routes if you were headed to the same place? And this is not philosophical this is just how it is. Henri is not hopping through the woods thinking that he is enjoying the experience of the road less taken. Henri is not thinking about appreciating the journey. He is just hopping, just to hop. Henri is primal. You are humanistic.
So, after a little contemplation from your egotistical mind you decide that, given the circumstances, it is better to leave the trail. It would be more productive according to this situation if you were to step off the trail. Remembering from your childhood, you look to the sky to see the moon above. You get your bearings straight and shuffle go your feet into the woods. Shuffle go your feet into the darkness.
At night, the forest floor sleeps.
The forest floor is much different than you thought. It is much different than the trail. The forest floor seems to have a bit of a squish. It almost seems to sink an inch (sometimes two) with each footstep . Every placement of your foot starts a chain reaction on the forest floor. The cracking of branches and the crumbling of leaves. The sink of moss and the flutter of insects. Like throwing stones into water, stepping on the forest floor. Ripples of branches and leaves and bugs and worms all moving away from the point of impact. You have set into motion the awakening of the forest floor. The millipedes crawl out of their nests and the pill bugs and spiders all take a peek from their hiding places. An intruder encroaching on the late night slumber of the vast darkness.
And now the bugs are back, the fear is back. The fright that you knew would come, is back. The insects crawling up your socks. The branches, wrapping their nimble fingers around your chest and squeezing out your breath. The owls, the hawks, the crows all watching. Insects carrying other insects, crawling all over each other, crawling all over your spine. Moving double time back and forth top to bottom, you can feel their tiny legs. You can feel their tiny claws gripping your flesh, sinking in deeper and deeper with each step. Your back seems raw from all the traffic.
Why did you awake the forest floor? Why did you awake the fear.
You take one last look at the moon ( to get your bearings).
You can feel the blood being sucked from your skull. Your hair is falling to the ground, meeting last years leaf litter. Feeding the insects.
You did not mean to, but your eyes close. There was nothing you could have done. Your eyes closed. Maybe to protect themselves. Maybe to ensure their own safety.
You went blank and fell to the forest floor.
To sleep away the night with all the other creatures. You found your place and settled in. Soon, the insects, having been woken, will fall back asleep. Soon, the spiders find their hole. Soon, the beetle sleeps and you sleep with it.
Daybreak:
Henri is sitting on your chest, the sun is up and your slumber subsides.
