The Haunted Wood

"I can't go through the Haunted Wood, Marilla," cried Anne desperately.

Marilla stared.

"The Haunted Wood! Are you crazy? What under the canopy is the Haunted Wood?"

"The spruce wood over the brook," said Anne in a whisper....

....Anne stumbled over the bridge and went shuddering up the horrible dim path beyond. Bitterly did she repent the license she had given to her imagination. The goblins of her fancy lurked in every shadow about her, reaching out their cold, fleshless hands to grasp the terrified small girl who had called them into being. A white strip of birch bark blowing up from the hollow over the brown floor of the grove made her heart stand still. The long drawn wail of two old boughs rubbing against each other brought out the perspiration in beads on her forehead. When she finally stumbled over the log bridge she drew one long shivering breath of relief.

"Well, so nothing caught you? said Marilla unsympathetically.

"Oh, Marilla, how can you be so cruel?" sobbed Anne.

In this circumstance...this picture is not worth 1000 words but I had to take it so that I could use it to show and to describe the thoughts and feelings that I was having.

The other day we had some extra time so we decided to go for a walk which led us, once again, to the place we've named "The Secret Garden". When I find my million dollars (and I mean WHEN not IF) I am going to buy this piece of property because I love to go there with the kids to discover.

As I followed the kids around, each of us discovering what we wanted to, I found...no...I heard the creaking of this entanglement of branches, of trees, this forest of darkness.

I honestly became enchanted with what I had stumbled upon. Instantly, vivid images that my own mind had allowed itself to create from stories, from books that I had read, flashed through my mind. One in particular..."Anne of Green Gables". The obsession had allowed, had caused our family to then take a vacation to Prince Edward Island which is where the story takes place and is where the author had lived . This island had allowed me to see and to discover my own "Haunted Wood".

I sat for a moment as my kids continued to wander and took in the sounds, the darkness, the eerie and morbid beauty of it all. I realized how much I missed these experiences. I had a mother that taught me to read a book with obsession. Who encouraged my mind to wander. Who wanted my imagination to soar.

I try to install these characteristics within my own children and though it may look weird at times, I don't really care! I can't care. The thought of stifling my children's characters, imaginations, and desires scares me to death.

I know that is why we love "The Secret Garden". My children know that they can run around and find new things...new places...new adventures. These are the afternoons that I hope that they will never forget. Never.....