Writings By Phil

I stared up through the tall fur trees silhouetted against the darkened sky. I don’t know what awoke me, but there I was, wide awake, lying in my sleeping bag. The forest was wrapped in the blackness of night.

I listened as the creek bubbled and splashed over the rocks on its aimless way. Its music was accompanied by the sawing of the wind through the trees.

My mind wandered into the realm of the fearful. I began to gaze into the darkness, looking for pairs of shinny eyes. “There was a bear here last night,” I thought, “Those people saw him.”

My imagination began to blow up creatures of every size and shape, snarling as they threatened me from the trees. “Why do I think such stupid things, I’ll just get myself scared,” I chided myself as I rolled over. I tried to erase my mind, but the ghosts of the creatures I had created lingered even as I began fading into the world of dreams and the supernatural.

Almost asleep again, I still heard the noise. It was coming my way! My whole body snapped to attention, every fiber in me caught in the clutches of fear. My body was ridged. I held my breath. My heart pounded furiously. “Its a bear,” was my first thought, play dead an he won’t bother you.” I was afraid to move anyway.

Whatever had made the noise was quiet, and I began to think how foolish I had been in letting my fears run away with me. My thoughts didn’t get far when something cold and wet landed on my cheek. “This it it,” I thought.

My body, again, tensed with statue-like immobility. Nothing within me moved except my heart, and that, only because I couldn’t stop its pounding. It beat so loudly that whatever beast had cold pressed its nose into my cheek would probably rip me apart, like a dog with a squeaky toy, just to find and kill the noise. Mere seconds, seemingly an eternity, only ended when the cold weight was jettisoned from my face and plopped down on the plastic spread beneath my sleeping bag. A second plop, farther away, piped my curiosity and warily I peeked through a slitted eyelid. The summation of all my fears, real and imagined, was hightailing it for the creek.

When the cold nose of the unknown hit my face, I froze in fear. Had my reaction been to explode in a violent convulsion of failing arms and legs, which was my plan B, that little frog would have been the one filled with fear. So much so, I think it would have croaked!

End