Once I was hiking in a remote part of the woods that was new to me. Imagine my surprise when, looking ahead, I saw a black umbrella. Just hanging from a tree. It was the oddest sensation. I have never meet a living soul up on the mountain paths, and it would seem to me that those who venture there aren't the umbrella toting types. My thoughts immediately turned to Mr. Tumnus whom I know is a created character, even in the movie. (Yeah for green sceen technology) But still, it does give one pause for thought. Where did that umbrella come from? | Sometimes when I'm walking in the winter woods, I wonder if I've stumbled into Narnia. I suppose this thought comes to me most frequently during the cold hikes of winter because my fondest Narnian memories rise from the season of endless winter created by evil Queen Jadis in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I see lots of cloven footprints, and I know in my head that of course they were made by deer, but every now and then something happens that makes the think I've passed across the threshold to another world. I wonder if I'll bump into Mr. Tumnus just around the bend. |
Another day, along a path I regularly follow, perhaps a mile from the road, I observed a garden tool lying parallel to the trail. It looked like it had been there forever, but I had never noticed before. The handle was well worn, and the hoe blade was rusted with lichens growing on it. Where had it come from?
Weeks later, when I revisited that area, what did I see hanging from a pine branch overhanging the path? You guessed it. The headband. Now you tell me, isn't that just the sort of thing Mr. Tumnus might do?