When I was younger the woods behind my house was another world, it could have been anything I wanted it to be. The stories behind the trees vary from tree to tree as I run past them, imagining about the warriors I am fighting or the friend I need to save from death because he cut his knee on a rock after he tripped.

The day is perfect, my friend is over and we are playing our favorite game.  We need to defend our home, a fort we built along the arrowhead swamp, from the Red Army.  They come from a place far away, across the river that runs through the back. We have no clue what lies beyond the river as we have no way of crossing it, and still don’t to this day.  We have prepared for a long time for the fight, but just as it started my friend trips on a fallen birch tree branch while he was running along the swamp. Everything stops around me, the pine trees that surround me stop moving in the wind, the red squirrel on a log stops to stare with me.

The first thing that goes into my head is to run fast, I know the fastest way to get back to my house and where the band-aids are kept.  My first instinct is to take the way that goes past the fort, then I remembered something. My imagination goes back in time to when grandpa told me about the old road that would navigate through the trees.  Horses and people walked down the road constantly a long time ago, later in present day my house was built right next to it. Now it’s back to reality.

I have taken the road many times before, I know every turn and every fallen tree on the trail.  The way my grandpa explained, it was once a dirt road. Now it’s tall grass, brush and tree branches start to invade from the outside in like the Red Army coming after me.  I have never ran so fast, just around the second corner I remember the oak that fell down last spring. I jump over it no problem, but a branch scraped my knee, I didn’t realize and kept running.  I made it safe to my house, I jump out of the woods onto my back lawn. Halfway to my house I dodge my oncoming dog, a large yellow lab named Lucky. My mom is starting to open the front door, likely to go to her garden; I shoot the gap.  Second door on the left, top shelf next to the desk. I have the supplies, back to the forest I go.

I found my friend in the same spot, I save his life and now it’s all good.  He realizes I’m cut too, so we both patch ourselves up. The Red Army is coming, we have to get ready.

I took a walk through the woods behind my house, the trails I walked down were like an old battlefield. The trails have not been used by anyone in years so they haven’t been kept up, the grass is much longer now and fallen branches cover them. The trails used to be more open and now, in a way, seem much older than I remember. The young trees I used to know from my past are now old and strong, and the old trees I remember aren’t there anymore. New trees are starting to infect the world I used to know so well. The trails are now more narrow too, the woods growing slowly over time and trying to cover up any history of me.  I sat next to the swamp, taken back by how life has changed since, and how the forest I once knew has changed too.

This story happened to me when I was about 8 years old, I remember it clearly.  I forget who the friend was, as before school started he moved away and I have never seen him again. Sitting there in the woods, watching the pine trees move in the wind brought back a lot of memories that I have formerly made in my adventures. The majority of the forest behind my house is pine, needles scatter the ground while squirrels jump from tree to tree over your head, as you jump from tree to tree down below. The woods that became my second home- playing, adventuring, interacting with what it offered. The forest was a parent, that accepted me with open arms and drew you in to them.  The many forts I have built back there, ranging from each area and each type whether it was a teepee or something with four walls. Many are gone now, but a teepee still stands on the edge of a swamp, the Arrowhead Swamp. I see it every now and then, while going through the forest with other priorities I have as I have gotten older, typically hunting.

While my focus has changed through life, I will never forget the many days spent in the woods. Nature is like playing charades, it doesn’t say any words but all you have to do is watch and you will learn a lot. I have studied male white-tail deer a lot over the past couple years, trying to outsmart them and harvest them during the couple weeks we can.  One way they are like humans is their bodies. When they’re young they are just full of testosterone and life, and as they get older they start to get grey, they get bigger bellies and they don’t quite jump like they once did. They get much wiser though as they pass along through the years, characteristics between us and them show when you pay a little attention.

One day I built my last fort.  One day I battled the Red Army for the last time.  One day I carved my last battle spear. Soon enough there will be one day I step into the woods for the last time, walking through the trees and along the deer trails, and getting to experience her beauty.  For right now I need to enjoy it while I can, watching the leaves change from green to yellow, and after the winter watching the forest become alive. There will be a last for that too, but for now I still get to hear the pine needles crunch underneath my feet.