Sinister November

November days are short, dark and wet.
Endless rain, early dusk and continual
dark skies with or without rain. You
well know that entering a forest interior
trees close in along forest trails as wind
whispers its endless messages to the
initiated. There is a perpetual dusk in
the interior of a forest, for the forest
canopy shields its privacy even when
you intrude thinking nature is yours
just as it is the wild things who find
their home in the forest. Some you
have seen, others spoken of in hushed
fearful tones, glimpsed and guessed at.
You chose to enter the forest this dark
night but you did have a flashlight to
aid your way across the minefield of
slippery patches and protruding roots.
After all, this place of nature has become
very familiar to you after all these years
of access. Yet that eerie discomfort felt
peering through the blackness, the thin
light you shone through barely making
an impression sent that proverbial chill
down your spine as you spun around
and wildly flashed the light in the very
direction from which you had come
as fear surged when you imagined the
blunt force trauma that would disable
your body and mind, someone creeping
silently behind you on soft cat's paws
muffled by the rain-soaked fall foliage.