I can’t seem to get enough of them. I love the squirmy feeling I get when I look at the eery empty shadows of trees, especially on the untouched snow. They are so bleak. So lonesome. So ghostly. So, get me out of this godforsaken forest please, sinister like aren’t they?
I would make a wonderful Anne of Green Gables. Remember the scene where she falls into the well and sprains her second ankle, having sprained the first after falling off the ridgepole of Moody’s kitchen roof? Where she has to sit alone in the forest while Diana Barry runs for help? Remember how she sits there and repeats some frightening poem to herself and then her eyes promptly roll back in her head as she faints?
I love that part. I would do that really well because if I were alone in a groaning sinister forest of tree shadows, listening only to the creaking bows and bare branches and my own footsteps, I would easily faint. Oh yes, I would. Easily. As a matter of fact, someone better fetch the smelling salts right about now for I am…… (((thud)))