Friday, November 4, 2022

There comes a day...

There comes a day every so often that is just not quite long enough - one in which all the pieces just won't quite fit together.  That happened to me a couple of days ago, so that I was left wondering if my 208th consecutive walk over the Hilltop Trail might be the piece that was left out.  

But, as we all know, this life is not for the faint-hearted, and faint-hearted I would not be.   (Webster: faint-hearted ~ lacking courage or resolution, timid)  

I grabbed my stick and flashlight and called my dog.  We were off.  It was quite dark up that old trail through the woods, but thankfully once we reached the top, we had just a bit of moonlight to guide us on.  But wait, I am getting ahead of myself...


We were almost halfway to the top when Millie heard or saw something just the other side of Frank's fence.  She darted under the wire but quickly drew up short, when the most hideous scream, hardly out of the circle of light, filled the night, echoing off every cliff and crevice of that old hillside.  I was chilled to the bone and my every hair must have stood on end.  I thought of turning back but decided to go on. I hoped that Dan would come in his side-by-side to look for me, but he did not.  The screams or cries or yelps, however they could be described, followed us until we were almost to the pond. ( I recorded them on my phone.  I was so sure that Dan would be impressed at how brave I had been, but he seemed unconcerned.  :~)


I spotlighted all the same old favorite places which all of you have seen so many times before.  There's the trail that turns back near the top of the hill.  And further on, the most photographed tree along the way, the old persimmon that grows on a small peninsula that reaches into the pond, underneath which fairies live, I am sure.  I must have a zillion pictures of that tree in every season, but never had I photographed it in the black of night.  


There's the pretty little sassafras tree I keep threatening to steal roots from for making a bit of sassafras tea. It looked beautiful in the moonlight, I thought.



 And finally, there was home.  I did not double back and walk the trail in the opposite direction as I often do.  No, I didn't.  I went inside and locked the door.  Walk #208 just might be the last time "I Go Walking After Midnight," as Patsy Cline once so beautifully sang.  But, oh my goodness, it surely was pretty up there on that old hill with nothing but Millie and me and one old coyote, and.........who knows what else!


17 comments:

kathyinozarks said...

Wow that would have given me a scare for sure, I would probably trip and fall on something if I took a walk in the dark-hugs glad you and Millie got safely back home
your friend at the lake Kathy

Gretchen Joanna said...

I will never forget when I was a child of eight, walking my friend home one night when it was not quite dark, on our dead-end country road.... we heard horrid animal screams coming from the orange groves, and we ran straight back to my house and called her parents to come and get her and drive her home.

A cowboy neighbor told us it was probably a Snollygoster. Sometime later -- was it years? -- he said maybe it had been a wolverine. I never knew if he was joshing us about both suggestions. As an adult, thinking back, I wondered if it was caterwauling. But by then I couldn't remember the sound very well.

It wasn't until I was in my 60's that I ever heard anyone use that word snollygoster again, and I discovered it is in the dictionary!

I am so glad you accomplished your walk and didn't have to interrupt your latest run of days. If you wanted to do another courageous walk in the dark, might your husband go along, too?

Saundra said...

Good heavens woman!!!! I hope Millie returned home with you. If I were to be cray cray enough to go walking after midnight I'd be carrying more than a stick and a dog! Glad you made it home safely.

Granny Marigold said...

Oh My Goodness! I don't know how you could continue on your walk after hearing those screams. I would have high-tailed it back home so fast. Do you know what makes a sound like that? Surely not a coyote.
On the other hand the photos you took are just great. Especially the trees. I believe that fairies would choose such a spot under the roots of the persimmon tree. Absolutely perfect for fairies.
If you decide to do a sketch/ water colour of that night's adventure it will be verrry interesting how you choose to portray it.

happyone said...

Those coyotes have the most awful cry!!!

acorn hollow said...

you had one powerful light that's for sure! and yikes I would have run for it lol. The coyotes are down at the farm below us and once in a while we hear them howling makes me shiver just writing this.
Cathy

Prims By The Water said...

Were those coyote screams? I would have high tailed it back home if I had heard that. Too scary for me and kudos for you for continuing on! The pictures are very pretty though!!! Janice

Hill Top Post said...

Gretchen, I “looked up” your words and must say I would much rather meet up with a coyote than a snollygoster. There are a lot of them around these days but hopefully not in my woods. 🥴 And, yes if I have occasion to walk again at night, Dan will definitely drive along behind.

As Happy One said, “ Coyotes have such an awful cry.” I am sure the poor critter was upset that Millie was in his woods. The coyotes come at night close to the house and torment Millie who sleeps in her dog house on the porch.

GM, It might be fun to try painting a scene from that walk in the dark.

Saundra, my son keeps telling me I need to pack iron when I am out but that’s not me. . I do, however, carry a small can of pepper spray.

Janice, it normally is pretty wonderful to go out walking At night, but I don’t think I will ever go alone at night again. Cathy, I do still shiver just thinking about it!

Kathy, I try to watch my feet, but I have fallen a couple of times in broad daylight.

Hootin Anni said...

Great photos...but, my goodness you were brave!!

nookworm said...

You were brave! I would have turned right around and gone home. Your nighttime flashlight is powerful and so are your wonderful photos of the trees! If I were younger I would have probably gone nightwalking again but there would be a human friend at my side! Great story!

Magpie's Mumblings said...

Oh my word - that's beyond terrifying. You are a brave woman indeed to carry on walking! If it was a coyote best be extra careful because around here they're attacking humans and also dogs. Of course those attacks seem to be happening in the cities where people are stupid enough to insist on feeding them and thus they have no fear of humans. Be safe!!

Shrimpton and Perfect said...

Careful my girl.

Henny Penny said...

Oh good grief! I have goosebumps just reading about you out walking in the dark night. You are a brave lady. That scream would have scared me to death. I loved seeing the lights on in the house. Bet you and Millie were glad to see them too.

Bonnie K said...

What was the noise? I've heard mountain lions scream at dusk and it is quite unnerving. Glad you got your walk in. I admire your dedication.

Debra said...

I was going to guess a puma (mountain lion). We had one around here-we saw it and heard it and captured its footprint in the mud with a plaster cast. They sound Horrible and it sounds like a person screaming. A Bob cat sounds pretty awful too. So does a coyote-so do you know what it was? Your photos are so beautiful! And you are brave!

Hill Top Post said...

Thanks, Ya'll, for all the comments. I am sure the wild wails that night were those of a coyote. I have always been enchanted with those lowly howls at night, but only at a distance. I had never heard one right at skirt tail.

Debbie Nolan said...

There is something so scary about coyote screams. I often walk in our back field at night and many times hear them crying. Am not too frightened because my male Shepherd stays close to me. Loved seeing your night photos. The sassafras tree is lovely at night. Do you dig roots up in the spring and make tea. Love it. Good tonic in the spring. My grandma always said you needed a cup or two at the end of winter to thin your blood. I just enjoy the fragrance. Well glad you and Millie braved the dark to get your walk in.