It was a very foggy day today, which is common on the coast of Maine but not in December. Fog has the ability to blur the line between the seen and the unseen. Usually the demarcation is strict and solid, but when it’s foggy, the line shifts and forgets where it’s supposed to be. Today was one of those days, and because today is in the dark half of the year, the feeling was especially intense.
I headed off to the old apple orchard because I knew that if I were going to find something not quite of this world, that would be the place to find it. Oh, in the spring this place is full of greenery and pretty pink little flowers with petals drifting everywhere like a dream. And I can’t tell you how much of a lie that is because the apple trees know darn well what they are and what is revealed in the dark half of the year.
|The old apple trees, not so pretty now.|
I have warned of the apple trees several times in this journal. Do you remember when I told you about the old farm hand? Please reread it if you do not recall. It just may save your life someday. In any event, the apple trees were once again very menacing. If you have never been to an apple orchard in the winter--if you have only been in the spring, summer, and fall when the air is festive and the trees are benign--then you are in for a surprise.
If any tree can think and reason like a human, it’s the apple tree. If any tree can plot and plan like a human, again it’s the apple tree. And I swear that at this time of year they can even uproot and move about in the darkened fields. Usually it happens during the night so we don’t see it, but on this day of fog, the apple trees were especially mobile and bold. Arrogant, actually. They were arrogant. Bolstered by the darkness and the fog, they came right up to the road.
Look between the two trees on the right. Can see a third tree running between the two? It was actually in the middle of the photo when I tried to take this picture, but it ran before I had the chance to capture it. Then the tree on the right became very menacing. Can you see the earth uprooted all around it? It is because it began to move. Closer.
I realized it was time for me to go or I would end up as one of the unsuspecting travelers. Even though my heart is honest and true, I did not want to risk being in the clutches of those bony fingers.