Vol.8, No.41,
2005
A Walk In The Woods By Hannah
Clifford
Crack.
The twig snapped beneath my foot. The
sound rang out through out the woods.
The only other sound I heard was Roxy,
my golden retriever, feet trotting behind
me. Mother said to be back by dark and
to stay on the main path. So far I've
followed all the rules. Roxy stopped
in her tracks and pricked her ears up
toward the tree line. I saw movement.
My moms voice echoed in my head,
Sarah Lee, stay on the path....
I kept walking and whistled Roxy over.
As we continued, the autumn leaves crunched
beneath our feet. I heard something
that sounded like a drum roll and a
partridge rose into the air. It must
have heard us coming. I was hoping that
was the movement I saw. I looked up
and watched it fly away and noticed
the sky darkening rapidly, a storm was
brewing. I realized I had to take cover,
but I didnt know the woods as
well as the path. I scrambled up the
hill in front of me. Roxy was running
beside me. I fell in an old abandoned
fox den hidden in the grasses. I rolled
out of it but realized I twisted my
ankle when I fell. Roxy kept bounding
ahead but I couldnt keep up. We
kept going but not nearly as fast. I
ignored my moms rules and went
off the main path to take cover. I found
a large rock beneath some cedar trees.
I had to rest. My ankle was now throbbing
with pain. I heard a loud bang, thunder.
Roxy was now shaking. She, like me,
was nervous. We continued on, the rain
was now pouring, and even with the cover
of the trees, we were both getting drenched.
Not only was it thundering and pouring
rain it was now getting dark. Mom and
Dad would start to look for me soon
accompanied by our other dog, Max. They
would be sure to find us, I hoped.
We
pushed our way through the dense underbrush,
for maybe only five paces. Roxy and
I reached a clearing. Roxy trotted to
the other side of the clearing and I
followed slowly limping behind. We sat
down and leaned up against a huge aspen.
The aspens branches were bare
and boney. All the other trees had leaves
to spare. The leaves were creating a
canopy protecting us from the rain.
They were various colours, from bright
red to burnt sienna, and electric orange
to the colour of a sunrise. I loved
fall. The ground was covered by leaves,
which were damp. The damp leaves smelled
of mold or something decaying. I could
not hear my own thoughts because of
the booming thunder overhead. It was
getting louder and louder. The storm
was upon us.
The
fifty-foot aspen with the bare, bony
branches was hit. I soon found out the
branches were not bare because of fall,
the tree was dead. I heard a blood-curdling
crack! I, Sarah-Lee Hewett did not want
to die at the age of thirteen! The huge
tree came crashing down towards us.
I scurried out of the way with Roxy
following. I was slow because of my
ankle. I was stuck! My sweater caught
on one of the protruding branches on
another tree! I saw the tree come hurtling
towards me, then it stopped. I couldnt
believe it! I was alive. Roxy came over,
sniffing, whining, desperately signalling
me to get out but I couldnt. Even
though I wasn't hurt, I was trapped.
On the way down the tree had brought
many smaller trees down with it. I was
lodged between the big aspen and two
smaller birch trees. I tried to wiggle
my way out but I just got more stuck.
Hours passed and I was getting cold
and it was very dark. I saw a faint
glimmer of light in a bush. Then I heard
someone cry out, Sarah, Sarah!
I heard the person cry out my name now
closer. It was my Mom. I called out
in hopes she would hear me and soon
enough she did. My Mom scrambled through
the trees and into the clearing. She
froze at the sight of me. We were both
happy to see each other. My Mom said
in a low tone, What happened?
I explained the whole thing in under
a minute. My Mom ran over to me and
with my Moms help I struggled
out of the trees. By this time my Dad
and Max were both there. They had attached
a search and rescue cart to Max and
they pulled me home. I told them every
detail of what happened. To this day
I dont go off the trails without
an adult.