Beasts Stalking the Darkness

And an icy, cold finger of a hide-behind

Creatures of the long silent night. . .

Many years ago, the young and adventurous me, discovered a 40 acre parcel of heavily wooded forest property. It was smack dab in the middle of a state forest. Deep in the middle of this secluded 40 acre parcel in the wild’s of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula stood a 20’X20′ tar papered shanty. This mysterious structure nestled in the woods looked as though it gave struggle as the natural world come to claim it back.

I happened upon this 40 acre parcel with a undefended, abandoned, treasure totally by accident, or was it? The universe choreographed this for me to find, I am totally convinced of it. It took every penny I could muster up, but I had to buy the property that had been up for sale for more than 15 years. I was beside myself with excitement! I was 43 and I was about to call this dilapidated square box with windows, home. It needed me, we were destined to be together.

The cabin/shanty, was originally built as a hunting camp in 1963. The men that build it used real saw milled 2X4’s from trees on site. Sturdy, well built, but no electricity or water as there were no power lines out there in the early days. It was now a dirty, a run down and neglected waif from all the years of no human intervention.  There was definite evidence of a local population of mice and raccoons that had made a claim to the walls and ceiling over the years, moving in their own families. A really large, gray, wart covered wolf spider and his cousins inhabited their designated corner of the tiny, lovable little cabin nestled in among the overgrowth of trees and flora. These guys were the biggest, most horrifying toad like, eight legged creatures I had ever witnessed! One recoils in terror when accidentally coming face-to-face with one of these bad boys. They are repulsive as all hell.

I was anxious to get started and arrived early on the day after I had taken procession of my new home. No keys handed to me at the time of signing the papers at the bank because, even the realtor didn’t know about the existence the cabin in the middle of this 40 acres. As a matter of fact, there wasn’t even a driveway. Just a barely passable two track grass path pointing the way.

Gus, my yellow lab took off to explore his new environment and was of no use whatsoever helping to unload the boxes of cleaning supplies, hammers, nails, crowbar and a shovel I figured it would take to make this place near as livable as possible. It took me most of that summer to fix up what was to be the most memorable 20 year adventure of my life.

By now it is late fall. My first night alone out here in the woods, in my now cleaned one room shanty found me laying in my bed with my blanket pulled up to my chin with one hand and a flashlight gripped tightly in the other. Listening to the night time parade of mice playing tag in the ceiling and walls, my thoughts turned to; “What the hell am I doing out here 30 miles from town,  in the middle of this 1000’s  of acres of woods? All alone! Was I nuts?”

“OMG! What’s that noise? There it is again!” It sounded like an animal was actually chewing on my cabin.

Sometime during the night I did dozed off but only briefly. A thunderstorm demanded that I not get too comfortable. Loud claps and bright lightening fueled my anxiety of this precarious first night in the woods. Then suddenly as a lightning bolt lit up the room, there on the ceiling was a monstrous, wart covered wolf spider the size of my hand, hurriedly making his way in my direction. . .

To make a long story short and the purpose of this post, when there is no power, it is quiet! I will be the first to tell you that the constant buzz of human activity, electronic gadgets, cell phones and all sorts of technology along with traffic noise and streetlights are so natural to the every day guy and gal that we just don’t notice the noise, that is, until it is gone. When the constant pulse of modern electrical power shuts off, the first sense or feeling is that of ahhhhhhh. It actually feels good for a moment or two.  (Personally, I miss my days and nights living unattached to the power grid and even today, going into town seems so loud.)  It doesn’t take long, however, before you begin to feel withdrawal symptoms, much like that of a cigarette habit withdrawal. Then night comes, the stillness of the true light less night becomes the monster in the closet of our childhood.

My first long winter night played games with the stillness of my snow covered wilderness. The quiet, it is so quiet. Heavy, wet snow absorbs sound like a sponge and holds on to it with all its might. Then suddenly I became acutely aware that moon light uses shadows as an accomplice of the blanket of snow; together they trick the imagination into seeing beasts stalking the darkness. As my imagination grabs hold of my acute anxiety, I am brought back to a story told to me by a wise older man I knew who called these night time imaginary beings hide-behinds.

“Elusive mythical creatures without true form, created purely from ones own imagination, hiding behind leafless hardwoods," he liked to say.

This man loved to tell scary stories, especially at Halloween.  I remembered his words as I sat reading quietly by oil lamp that night. The muted flickering of the yellow flame demanded entrance into the playful party of dancing shadows as the snow had let up and the clouds parted allowing the moon to throw its shadows on the fresh blanket covering my world. At that moment, as I looked up from my reading, the icy stillness crept up and stole away with my struggling confidence. That mythical hide-behind ran his icy finger up my spine. 

As the terror in my mind swelled in my throat a scream would have landed on no one. The hide-behind that annihilated my courage was enjoying his trophy win, his icy finger and leering snicker now retreating out the window. Cloud cover came again becoming my hero that night as it ended the stalking, it pulled the curtain on the full moons glittering ribbons through the trees, taking with it the shadowy creatures demanding my attention. I am again, alone with my thoughts and the thick, silent blackness of night. 

Twenty five years have now come and gone since my first winter encounter with the night time hide-behinds deep in my forest. My tiny cabin has given way to a fit a proper homestead. The moral of this story you may have guessed is that when the lights go out, and they will, it is the thick blanket of stillness people will surrender to. More often than not even before the lack of food sets in. Humans have adapted to noise, to the hustle of activity and having every desirable electronic device at their fingertips. You can and should prepare for as many physical aspects of the coming take down of the U.S. as possible. But will you be able to survive the quiet? It is truly a possibility that needs to be understood.

History has recorded that silence created a debilitating madness in the unprepared pioneer women during the 1800’s westward movement.  Women whose husband had settled them on the prairies of the western U.S. and were left alone for long periods of time often went mad due to the silence. Their only companion was the never ending wind, the mournful song of the elusive wolf and the constant fear of an Indian attack. After weeks away searching for or trading for supplies, returning husbands sometimes found their wives, if the were lucky, wandering the open prairie looking for another human neighbor, disponent, delirious and babbling gibberish.

Silence is the true enemy, it can create its own kind of madness. This madness invades the human imagination like a parasite, feasting on your confidence leaving you weakend and immobile to fight your imagined closet monsters. Silence can be a formidable enemy. Preparing now can help you create an understanding of the night time beasts.