The forest next to our condominium goes much farther in than I thought it did. It still isn’t much, and it’s surrounded on all sides by the lonely looping streets of the suburbs, but I’m pleased to have discovered that from one end to the other, it takes about twenty five minutes to walk. Today I went out to explore it again. The last time I did, I saw this:
I was walking home from the library and decided to get there through the forest, just for fun. Then I saw the family of deer. There were five or six of them, lingering between the trees, lovely and silent – when I saw them I stopped, and crouched down on the leaves to stare. I inched closer. One deer wandered by, saw me, and raised her head to look at me – her baby, the one in the picture up there, came up to her, and gave me a look, too, seeming unbothered. The mom licked the baby’s head absently, and then after a while she drifted away, leaving the little deer standing there, about twenty feet away from me. She looked at me. I looked back, trying to be as silent and still as possible. My legs ached. The deer started to inch towards me, very slowly, ducking her head a little bit as if she was trying to get a better look at this strange forest-invader all in black. The closest she got was maybe fifteen feet – and then, figuring out I was actually pretty boring, she quietly headed off after her mom.
It was amazing. I knew that there were deer in the forest, but I didn’t think I’d ever get so close to them, or that it would make me feel like I did. There was something about the little deer, edging closer and closer to me, that really struck something emotional – I don’t know. It was pretty cool.
So today I went for a walk again, and saw no deer, but I did see an ancient Coca-Cola machine, sitting in a pool of water, completely rusted through. I kicked it with my shoe and it felt crumbly and light. The thing had a 60s feel about it; and there were other old bits of metal, what looked like a car bumper, and an unidentifiable box, and a weird thing that had curlicues like the headboard of a bed. I have no idea why people chuck large metal objects into forests. I guess it must have struck them as a good idea at the time. I also clambered through some thorny bushes, which hurt, and wandered around near the stream, which snakes through the forest, until it disappears towards the Green Belt, and probably joins up with the river. A duck flew in a circle above me – it was trying to get away, I think, when I came crashing through the trees, but it did a really unnecessary and amusing loop before it flapped away over the rooftops. I walked along at the side of the fence, which separates the forest and the new development that’s just behind our condominium – and there was a nice beat-down path, so I decided to jog along it for a little bit, with the cool hiking stick I’d found in one hand. As I ran, I heard someone shout, like a bark; looking around, I saw people on their back porch, maybe turned in my direction. I couldn’t quite tell, it was far away, and they were blurry. Anyway, I turned away and kept going, and a man shouted something else. I’m not sure, but it sounded like “HEY, FRODO!”
So that’s great. Because I didn’t have enough self esteem issues already, without random assholes on their back porches yelling at me just for running through a forest.
I hate the world. I get shitted on for doing absolutely nothing. I’m not hurting anyone, running around in a forest – in fact that’s a pretty innocuous way to spend my day, I’m just exploring, I’m not hunting or chopping down trees or planning out future housing developments – in fact you could say it’s good for me, being outside in the fresh air, getting exercise. I spent a year of my life basically unable to leave the house, I don’t need any more reasons to go back to that.
My mom is frustrated with me. I don’t exactly know why this time. I don’t really want to say I’m sorry because I have no idea what I did. I probably did something – almost definitely, I did something. I just wish she’d actually tell me, so I don’t feel like the worst person who ever lived, not knowing the true extent of it. But whatever. It’s spring, you know, and that’s supposed to be a good thing. No, it is a good thing. And if I’m Frodo, then so be it. I’m Frodo.