Here Be Dragons

“I’m gone for a walk, going to explore our property…following the power line up to the back property line, then through the woods to Johnson Road. I should be home 4:30pm at the latest… M”

I have to leave a note otherwise he’ll get worried. After we moved here, I fell into a bit of a depression. I was raised on the wide, open prairies and the never-ending forests around here make me feel closed in, contained, trapped at times. If he wants to follow and catch up, he knows which way I went. I stop at the end of our property line to gaze down the seemingly deserted, gravel road that passes by the edge of the property, curves around a wooded hillside and disappears northward. I gaze back down the power line that has been kept mowed and I can see the highway that passes by our driveway. Then, I turn and face the woods. There’s a fence to the left, and a trail of sorts on our side of the fence. It’s not much of a trail. It looks like little more than a deer trail. I spot something on a tree a few meters in…some kind of sign. A message? Directions? Intrigued, I step onto the trail and into the woods.

I’m thinking it’s most likely a “No Trespassing “ sign since it’s so close to the property line, but as I get closer, I can tell that’s not the kind of sign it is. “No Trespassing” would normally be in bright legible writing…usually red on a white background, or maybe black letters on a yellow background, but this sign is all the same colour and I’m not sure there’s anything written on it at all, until I’m right up to it. It’s folded over! The hinge is dark but not rusted. I can feel that it was oiled not that long ago - there’s no squeak. The bottom of the sign is at my eye level and as I lift the top of the sign, I can see bright golden letters on a khaki green background. Fully open it says “Here Be Dragons”.

Well! This is Canada, not England or any other European country. I’m pretty sure we don’t have any dragons; pretty sure there aren’t any dragons anywhere, if there ever was any! Then I start to laugh at a triggered memory from last year’s cartography class. Ancient maps were very limited and when they got to the edge of what was “known”, they would draw sea monsters and dragons and write “Here be dragons”…a warning of the unknown, and possible dangers.

What a strange sign to find here, on our property! We took possession six weeks ago and we haven’t had time to explore the 65 acres that we now call home. I’m pretty sure there aren’t any dragons, but it is definitely “unknown “ territory. I’ll keep my eyes open, though. If I do see a dragon, that would be amazing.

This trail seems fairly well travelled. There must be a lot of deer in the area. I wonder if I’ll see any; or rabbits, or other wildlife. I think I see another sign up ahead! It’s smaller than the dragon sign but it’s the same colour. Rushing up to it, I carefully open it up, and see only a single golden arrow spiralling downwards. There aren’t any words. Slowly, I walk around the tree, searching around the base for something, anything. The dry autumn leaves are pushed up against the bark, but I spy the bright red corner of something embedded in the bark. Cautiously, I nudge the leaves with my boot. It’s a door! 

A teeny, tiny door only about 10 centimetres high, beautifully carved and with bright red frame and lintel. I look around, and not seeing anyone or anything, I get down on my knees to take a closer look. It’s the most beautiful door I’ve ever seen! There’s a tree carved into the surface, like the Tree of Life you see everywhere, but tiny and exquisite, with little red and yellow apples hanging in the branches, and a tiny, little blue bird sitting at the top. The hinges and doorknob look like burnished brass, a soft weathered gold colour. The frame of the door is bright red but the door itself glows darkly, like polished heartwood. In amazement , I run my fingers over the tree and the tiny apples. Feeling a bit silly, I try the knob. It opens! And there sits a tiny perfect dragon figurine. I turn it over and over in my hands, marvelling at the perfection of it. I’m torn at taking it with me, but gently put it back. A message has been carved in the wood behind the door…”Keep to the Right”.

“Keep to the Right”. If I keep to the right, will I get to see more dragons? I wish I’d brought my camera! Ha! Ha! Did old man Johnson put these out here? He doesn’t seem like the kind of person that would do this. He’s more the “No Trespassing “ or “Trespassers will be Prosecuted” (or shot!) kind of guy. I wonder what the next sign will say.

The trail curves to the right, into the woods. I’m seeing deer pellets on the trail and a few hoof marks where the soil is sunken down and damp. There’s also tracks that could belong to a fox or very small dog. I’m gonna go with fox, though. We don’t have any close neighbours so the tracks aren’t likely to be a dog’s tracks. There’s mostly poplar trees in this area, but I think there’s a few birch up ahead. The leaves are such a brighter shade of yellow, and I can see ragged edges of bark flipping around with the breeze. As I reach the birches, and start collecting a few of the bigger leaves to bring home, I notice that the trail, up to now a single path, suddenly branches to skirt the clump of birches. I stifle a laugh and keep to the right.

After I’ve gone about 10 meters, picking up larger yellow and brown leaves as I find them, and the bright red leaves of shorter bushes, I notice that the poplar trees are giving way to the brooding darkness of big old spruce trees. And, I see another sign! In excitement, I race up to it and gently open the sign. Well, that’s unexpected! It’s like a common road sign…a yellow diamond with a winding arrow.

I’m in the middle of the woods and I’m walking and the trail is winding. Does this mean it’s going to get worse? Looking at my watch, I see that it’s roughly quarter to three…still plenty of time to explore, but, I should consider heading in the right direction. I don’t want to be out here, not exactly sure where I am, when the sun starts dipping towards the horizon. My sense of direction is reasonably good and I feel I’m headed generally south, which means I’m headed towards the house, or at least the highway that passes by the house. The trail leads into the spruce trees, so, I carry on. 

The trees are getting bigger but the trail remains clear enough that I can easily see which way to go. There’s a huge spruce tree ahead. It must be a meter across for sure! I can see that the lower branches have been broken off and it seems to be blocking the trail. I also see that there’s something stuck to it. It’s not another sign. It’s framed like a picture and as I race over to it, I see that it is a picture…of fighting dragons! Beautifully carved and painted green and blue dragons, wings bent in flight, talons extended, fighting in midair! I run my fingers over the dragons and I feel the scales on their bodies, I feel the sharpness of their talons, I marvel at the hooded eyes, and flared nostrils. I can feel the heat from their nostrils! I trace their wings and imagine the powerful muscles rippling under the scaly skin. I can’t tear my eyes away and for a long time I stand transfixed before the picture. 

A sudden rattling of branches snaps the connection, and I’m shocked to see that the wind has come up and clouds are hiding the sun. My watch says it’s 3:58pm! I’d better hustle home.

The path skirts the big spruce and suddenly dips into a ditch that has a lot of exposed roots and rocks sticking up everywhere. I spot the trail continuing on the far side of the ditch and scamper up to the path. Moving quickly through the woods, I glance into the ditch to discover that it’s getting deeper and rockier. There’s no water in it now, but I can imagine that spring runoff would boil through here, picking up speed in its descent towards the ditch and, further down, the creek by Kalton’s Nursery. Suddenly, I’m brought to a halt. There’s a rock down near the bottom of the ditch, roughly three meters deep now. It’s an odd colour, more green and gold than any of the surrounding brown or grey rocks. And, it looks just like a dragon! 

The jaws are open, the eyes are glowing with golden flecks, spiny scales are layered around the snout and up into the neck! I swear there’s smoke coming from the nostrils…

I close my eyes and shake my head. That’s impossible! 

Suddenly, it’s starts to rain. Softly at first, then it picks up the pace and the rain is coming down in buckets. I’m quickly drenched…only wearing a light jacket that plasters itself to my body. I turn back to the trail, my only thought now is to get home. Thunder rumbles and the rainy mist makes it harder to see the trail. It twists and turns as it drops down. My feet splash through growing puddles and slip in the slimy clay. I’m zigzagging along the top of the ditch, grabbing at trees to keep from falling, and I start to wonder where this is going to take me. I don’t dare try a different direction, I can’t see in this downpour. I slow down to try and figure out where I am, but I have no idea. The woods seem as thick as ever, the trail is still dropping as it follows the ditch. I have to keep moving - there’s nothing else I can do. 

I stumble, trip on a root, and go flying towards the side of the ditch. Frantically, I scrabble for something to grab, and end up hugging a crumbly, rotten stump that smells of mould and mushrooms. I’m trembling, but pull myself to a sitting position. Breathing deeply, I chuckle…the sign did warn me about a winding road! I start to laugh hysterically, which turns to tears, and tickles down to a sob. No one knows where I am, not even me! The note I left at the house was kind of general. I check my watch and it’s 4:30. I have only the vaguest idea where I am, and no idea how far from home that is. At least the rain is slowing down. I pull myself up to standing and listen to the water tumbling in the ditch. The trail is still angling downwards but seems to be levelling off just ahead, and damn! I see another sign!

Another folded over, khaki green sign. I lift it slowly…a direction sign with a golden arrow going straight and then turning to the right. And, another layer to lift under that…a house symbol with a dragon inside it. The directions I can understand, but the dragon in a house has me perplexed. I can’t stay here, so I might as well see what it’s all about.

As the sign predicted, the trail continues along the ditch, mainly straight, for roughly 30 meters then turns right. There’s a bridge to cross the ditch. It’s definitely old, but looks sound. I don’t hesitate to cross it. I think I hear a vehicle …I might be getting close to the highway! I cross my fingers and continue on the trail. Suddenly, I break through the cover of the trees and the clouds shift enough for a ray of sun to light up the trail. I’m on top of a small, rocky hill just above the creek and there’s the highway! Now I know where I am…roughly 3 kilometres from our house!

I’m so relieved, so soaking wet, and so tired, but still 3 kilometres from home with no way to get down to the road. The trail seems to follow the highway so that’s good. I’m thinking about a hot shower, thinking about chicken noodle soup, thinking about a warm blanket to cuddle under, not really paying attention to the trail when suddenly my feet slip out from under me and I go sprawling into a mud puddle. Spluttering and spitting, I drag myself up to my knees, and as I look for a tree or something to help me get up, I spy a little house under a fallen log. It’s a tiny little brown house, with a perfect little green door, two tiny windows, and a thatched roof of golden grasses. I plop back down on my stomach and reach out to touch the door. Realizing how muddy my fingers are, I wipe them on the old log, and reach out again. The door swings open at my touch and inside, there’s a dragon figurine sitting in a rocking chair pulled up to the image of a roaring fireplace. Mesmerized, I study the intricate details of the dragon and the little house, complete with dishes on the table and a kettle on the stove! It’s amazing and unbelievable.

But the mud is cold and I start to shiver, I gently close the door and get slowly to my feet. I have to get home before I catch a chill and get sick. Ha! Ha! Catch a chill! I’m chilled to the bone, but, through the deepening gloom of evening , I can see the driveway, maybe a ½ kilometre yet. I slip slide down to the highway and drag myself that ½ kilometre. The driveway seems to stretch on and on but finally, I round the curve and there’s G, and a few neighbours, flashlights in hand, deciding who goes where. I manage to shout “I’m here” and I collapse.