Stopping by woods on a creepy evening

We took the kids on a nature walk tonight. The park we walk in is right up my country girl alley. It's out in the middle of God's country with just a few houses sprinkled here and there. And there truly is nothing there but nature; two gravel parking lots, a small nature center for children, prairie land, trails through the woods and along the river banks, bird nesting boxes, etc. No playgrounds. No landscaped beds. No baseball or soccer fields. Not even a camping area.

Okay, so. It was already about 7:40pm (nearly dusk) when we set out on foot, down a grassy bank and along a path that literally crosses the creek as part of the official trail.
As is the norm when we walk at this park, there was not another car in sight. And sure, as much as I love the country (if you're not one of the three regular readers of my blog you might not know that I almost literally ache for the country), as much as I love being in the midst of creation, I do get a bit of a creepy feeling when we walk in this isolated "garden." I mean, I grew up in the era of films that included settings like Camp Crystal Lake (Oh! Helloooo, Jason). So as we wandered along in the middle of nowhere, I couldn't help but wonder if anyone else was there. I mean, there wouldn't be any actual backwoods types in our midst, right?

Right!

(Right???)

Bump into Grizzly Adams out there? No problem.
Mr. Edwards from Little House on the Prairie? Pull up a tree stump and let's shoot the breeze.
But if somebody out there "Knows what I did Last Summer"? Heebie Jeebies, get me outa there.

Mind over matter, I made my way along the jeweled underfoot of green, through scattered patches of forest and past the golden of buttercups and potent yet intriguing aroma of wild onions, drinking it all in as only a lover of "all things country" can. We caught glimpses of two salamanders, checked out early vegetation on the forest floor and tried to identify some of the birds we sighted. Then.....

"Honey, did you just see that thicket move?
No?
Oh wait, there.
THERE!
Did you see......again, there!
There it goes again."

And he did see. But,...what was it that moved the thicket and rustled the remnants of last year's prairie grasses? And then it moved again. And to my complete surprise, three adorable little boys giggled with delight at being spotted and dashed out quickly, as if they were being hunted by the hounds.

The mom in me. "Where are the parents of those boys? Do they live close by? They look so,....so,...I mean, they're really quite handsome, albeit spry. But,...how'd they get here? Here, in the middle of God's country, in the middle of nowhere? How???

That's when I realized they were coming at us. She in her full length skirt of several layers, uncut hair simply pulled back away from her narrow face, an appearance of Bohemian meets Laura Ingalls if you will. And he, more rugged and earthy with unkempt shoulder length hair, thick and black with natural waves tumbling all about. And his beard a collection of wild stubble that spoke to his casual concern for outward appearances. Non-conformist all the way. In his hand he held a large glass jar, the contents a mystery until our inevitable crossing of paths was at close range. "Just what does he hold in that jar?", I inquired. We waved politely and they returned strained smiles. I peered at the contents of the jar while squinting to try to make out the words on his post hippie era tee shirt.

The contents?
Mushrooms. They were collecting mushrooms.

The message on the tee? (Begin Friday the 13th music now.)
CEREAL KILLER (Huh? Does he hate LIFE cereal or what???)

Folks, I'm not up on all the modern day lingo. I really don't know what his tee meant, nor do I care. I only cared that it gave me the flippin' willies. Admittedly, it was my own imagination that created the drama for this scene, not the earthy appearance or untimely meeting among the oaks. But seriously, CEREAL KILLER is NOT the logo you want to come across when you're smack in the middle of Toni's World, a place where imagination runs run wild as reality and fantasy dance the the two step.

Toni