Not All Who Wander

“All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken;

The crownless again shall be king.”

- J.R.R. Tolkien

The car swerved as I drove down the winding, woodsy roads. The headlights showed flashes of red, yellow, and orange. Twilight streamed through sections of the leaf canopy as I continued. I needed to keep going. I needed it all to stop. I needed to find it.

A loud sputtering came from my car, jerking me along with it. Looking at the dash, I was far past empty on the gas meter. Good thing I wouldn’t need this anymore.

Letting out a breath, I started to slow down, cruising to a side bank. The roads were dirt and rock. No one had been out here in a while. Years. Decades. The grasses and other forestry and flora were thriving from the lack of humanity. Perfect. Exactly where I needed to be.

I took everything I could think of from the car; the contents from the glove box, the blanket in the backseat, the spare torch and flare, and my small notebook. I would not be coming back. Grabbing my pack, I left the keys and headed on my way.

None of the creatures bothered me as I trekked deeper and deeper into the forest. Sunset was nearly gone, leaving me with limited light. I lazily searched for the spot I remember Nonno telling me about as a child. My last hope for something tranquil. Something good.

“Remeber that cabin we visited once, Little One? The one your mother was upset I took you to? I built that cottage with my own two hands. It will be standing long after I’m dead. If you ever need it, it will be there for you.”

I wondered if he had sensed it in me. That I wouldn’t be content to just live my life amongst all of that and be okay with it. I wonder if he also desperately needed a place to escape it all.

Hours passed. I could hear the rustling of animals and other fauna. Some chipmunks and squirrels ran across my path, fearing the human in the woods. I didn’t blame them. Humans were frightful creatures. We had long forgotten how to be compassionate and kind to one another, too focused on killing and harming each other. The world was full of too much hate. Too much violence. Too much wrongness.

Eventually, just as the owls had stopped screaming at my presence, I found it. The cabin was exactly like I remembered, plus a few decades of overgrowth and neglect.

The roof was covered in layers of moss and sticks. Vines, grasses, and bushes covered the outer walls and windows. There were a few stones still lining the path to the door. A few various shapes and sizes of mushrooms were scattered around. I wondered if they were poisonous as the creatures didn’t eat them. I inspected it closer, wanting to make sure it was still empty. Just because there were no signs of people, didn’t mean someone hadn’t found it and ruined it.

The windows were crusted and filthy, but in one piece. The door looked slightly bent, but still held together at the hinges. The wood logs and boards holding the four walls together were surprisingly well kept. Some vines dangled off the roof, nearly touching my head. I wondered briefly if those would flower in the spring and summer.

Large ferns, Dogwood shrubs, Spicewood bushes and remnants of dying Foxglove flowers covered the surrounding area. I would need to learn the other plants if I was to keep them from overtaking any further. After I groomed up the place, that is.

I found the rusted key under one of the cobblestone steps, precisely where it had been the first time. The door unlocked with a thud, opening with a few creaks. The overwhelming scent of mildew hit me like a train. Walking through the doorway, I got wrapped in threads of spiderwebs crossing in front of me and hanging from the ceiling in thick, white quantities. The fireplace still had some logs in it. There was also a small pile of candles near the door, more near the makeshift basin. I smiled wide. This was perfect. Everything I had been looking for.

As the years progressed, I continued to write in my note book about the peace of it all. A few times I had to sneak into society again to grab a new one. I made a trip early on to close out my bank accounts and erase everything off of social media. And get more clothing. I wanted to stay lost in the woods forever.

I had a few books on gardening, farming, building, and surviving. Growing the berries was by far the hardest. Rabbits and deer were a common threat to their survival. Squash was also an issue with the deer and, surprisingly, bears. I never hunted or trapped anything too large. Some rabbits, squirrels, ducks, and maybe the occasional turkey were enough. Even the wolves stayed away as long as I dumped the bones or cleaned the bodies far enough away from the cabin.

I had found some peace. Everything was quieter here. There was no hate, no violence, no wrongness. Everything had a purpose, and only those acted out of need for survival. If there was a rabid or psychotic animal, the others took care of it. Humans were not the same. We let things fester beyond control by ignoring them, and then blame that fact we didn’t know.

Nonno was right; this cabin is a very special place.

By my thirty-fourth winter here, I began to really think of my sanctuary. I had only twice seen another human since stopping going into society. I have been alone for almost three decades now. This cabin has become my home and own little village. Everything I could ever need was here with me. I had even befriended a few foxes and ravens over the years. The ravens would bring me buttons or shiny rocks in exchange for berries or dried meats. Even the foxes would help with rodent control for my garden. These creatures were so much better at community and relationship than most of the people I had known.

My hair and beard were well past my shoulders, white and coarse. My eyes had stayed the same, letting me observe and enjoy the beauty around me. My body had aged, but it didn’t look like the stereotypical elderly. I was fit, strong, and in good health.

When the sun broke, I went for my daily walk. It helped ease the joints, but also showed me the never-ending elegance of the forest. I took a fox with me, the one I named Nonno. He had followed me the longest throughout the years.

We walked for miles. We passed the lake where I washed my clothes, and another lake where I gathered water. We passed a few caves that held slumbering bears. They would have some new cubs come spring.

I walked through the pumpkin grove I planted with Nonno. I had found the deer and bears left my garden alone if I created one for them. Squash were relatively easy to care for once they got going. I didn’t need to worry about them spreading too far, the cold earth would solve that for me.

We finally got to the cliff's edge. Below, far below, was a tiny stream. I knew it was much bigger than it looked. The wind helped dull the ache in my bones as I watched the sun continue to rise. Nonno whined beside me, yawning. I should’ve brought some meat for him.

We sat and stared at the beauty of all of it for hours. I continued to contemplate my sanctuary. Was it time to go back? Had humanity fixed some of its issues? Had we learned to love and stop being so violent?

Stretching my neck, I rose and began the journey back to the cabin to get ready for yet another winter. I needed to strip the last of my garden and bed down what I could to keep it alive for the spring.

I made up my mind. I would stay lost in these woods for a little while longer. It was safe here. Peaceful. Serene. Even the predators and I were in harmony. I began to really pity those people I had known all those decades ago. They were searching for something like this, and didn’t even know it.

I realized it now. I had kept wandering these forests, but I was never truly lost.