By Louie Ferrera
I get the feeling that someone or something is watching me. Am I being paranoid or are those just imaginary glances from behind the green facade of the forest? The canopy in here is thick and nearly impenetrable, what light that does make it through is green and dappled. Walking down this trail feels like I’m swimming underwater, all that’s missing are the fish and the frogs. The tree cover is very dense, redwood and bay laurel trunks stand shoulder to shoulder like silent sentries, stretching as far as I can see. In here it’s womb-like and soothing but also tentative and a bit spooky too. Try as I may I can’t seem to shake the feeling of being watched. I tell myself that those glances are only imaginary. By definition a facade is a kind of cover, a device by which what’s underneath, the “true thing”, is hidden or obscured. Is the green facade of the forest hiding something from me?
The Native Americans both revered and feared the redwood forest. Perhaps it’s those people’s ancient spirits that I’m sensing. When European invaders arrived here they took one look at those majestic trees and could think of only one thing: how to saw them down and use them for their own purposes. I have no conception of that kind of mindset, it’s like shitting on the Mona Lisa. Trees are living things, they have a spirit, an essence. The wisdom stored in an ancient redwood is beyond human capacity to understand or quantify. Perhaps the forest facade is obscuring the imaginary glances, the spirit, of those long ago clearcut trees?
The glances of animals are anything but imaginary. Animals don’t need a facade, they can hide in plain sight. A deer’s ability to camouflage is akin to magic. One minute it’s there, the next minute it has literally melted into the forest. The only thing that reveals a deer’s presence is movement and a deer can stay still for a long time. Who knows how many times I’ve been watched by coyotes, bobcats, foxes or mountain lions? I’ve never seen a mountain lion but I’m certain one has seen me. So it is entirely likely that this green facade surrounding me is hiding the not so imaginary glances of forest animals. The birds, insects and other minute forest dwellers know I’m here too. We humans are so clumsy and oafish the way we trample through the domain of others. The facade is real, the glances not so imaginary. I move about with trepidation, my senses on full alert.
When you talked about almost swimming in it, it reminded me of the concept of “forest bathing.” That always appealed to me.
But I know that concept of feeling you’re being watched. I’m not big on hiking alone, mostly for safety sake. It’s a good reminder that we share this space with so many creatures, the trees among them, and it is their space first.
Sorry I haven’t responded in a while.
Lovely writing.
You could have gone on in your descriptions and I would have been there.