Thereâs never one point where something âclicksâ. Some like to believe there is, that hobbies or skills reach a well-defined turning point, an ON-OFF switch. Itâs never that simple. Even the most abrupt of changes occur over time, not in discrete, quantum moments. Thatâs why the worst changes are still […]
Sea of the Fractured Circuit Read More »
My grandfather was, for lack of a better term, an ass. Unfortunately, he suffered a lot of symptoms of what I often referred to as “Old Man-itis.” On top of the real-life ailments that forced him to live at home with us, his general abrasiveness made me avoid him like
The Crows Know Something We Don’t Read More »
Journal entry: August 30th, 2031. My name is Dr. Gabrielle Antario, and thereâs something going on that you all should know about. It all started in January of 2020, with the mysterious appearance of a tree in West Virginia, on the property of a man named Reginald Walker. At the
I Found a Tree in my Backyard: The Animate Forests Read More »
Over by Snap-Neck Swamp there are trees of a very particular type. They are tall and gangly, with slender boughs that sway this way and that and very few leaves to grace the tips of their branches. Their dispositions are quite wretched, and though one may gaze upon them for
I work for the US Forest Service. A lot of interesting to fairly abnormal happenings have occurred during my 20+ years of service with FS. Reading the experiences of others on this and other sites about their experience in forestry work makes me want to share my own experiences. Let
Confessions of a Forester Read More »
To all my children, to all those who followed me, and to those who trusted me, I am sorry, but this is my suicide note. It is necessary to kill the monster which now haunt us, one beyond all hope for redemption. There are many things which I should have
Children of Wood and Man Read More »
Darlene Kellyâs eyes scanned the set of hoof prints in the mud where she knelt. Her eyes moved to the thick underbrush in front of them, where something large had fled, tearing a hole in the autumn foliage. She could see crimson specks on a patch of leaves to the
Heart of the Rotwood Read More »
The man on the trail is dead and will need to be moved. It is a more difficult task than I would have guessed, and nearly impossible for a 5â 4â woman with no help and no gurney. I tried to drag him toward camp right after I found him this morning, but only succeeded in pivoting him and twisting his legs around each other horribly. Bodies look so wrong once they stop feeling pain. I never thought I would have so much experience with death, but I havenât cried over the loss of someone since the lighthouse. This man shit his pants before he died, and moving him made the smell worse. It will bring the animals in. Still no sign of Ira or Bill.
The Whistlers: Ruth’s Account Read More »
