A Wild Place
Not that much of a post, but when I saw this pond at night when I was in Hamilton last month, I thought of Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are. And how the wild things and wild places are always there, everywhere, you only need to look with those kind of eyes. For anything could come crawling out of this silent ooze.
OK – an admission… I am afraid of monsters. I don’t mean horribly horrendous humans who do horrible things to other humans. I’m actually not afraid of them at all – unless I happen to run into one and have legitimate fears for my personal safety. But I mean monsters, with hairy arm-paws that roar and growl and grab your arm in the middle of the night when you go to close the window. Who are watching you from outside while you brush your teeth. Who are hiding in the toilet bowl and will get you if you sit down in the middle of the night.
I mean all the monsters that only come out at night. And me a night owl. Sitting here, facing the darkness outside the window. Are they watching me now? Are they coming to get me? I wish I was in bed. I would go to bed. I would. But there might be a monster under the bed. Who will grab my feet just as I get in and pull me down, under the bed and… scare me…
I’m scared of being scared by monsters.