'busy as Hitchcock' is brilliant, Alan. I can just hear all those birds! I saw a stage adaptation of The Birds at our local drama festival a few years ago in which you didn't see one for most of the play, but just heard the sound of them outside–it created great tension.
It's true though, and not just the birds, as everything thrives on a constant life/death cycle.
You need to get to Australia in September where it's the breeding season and Australian Magpies can chase you for a whole mile. Oddly I had to escape to a small area of woodland to be safe that day. Even the wagtails are frightening during September.
It's strange that although it's also the breeding season for snakes they wouldn't attack. Despite being repeat attackers (you could be bitten two or three or more ongoing times by a Common or Eastern Brown, they'd just look at me and you could hear them saying 'idiot' or 'English idiot'). But the birds, even a single wagtail, more terrifying than a Magpie, is a nightmare, and drawing eyes on the back of my hat only worked one year!
I guess a play would be highly effective because terror is building up and maintaining tension. The tension would continue outside as well. I remember a particularly unnerving horror movie, even the martial arts master, a mate, screamed at one point. But leaving the cinema, even into a relatively busy London street, was incredibly stressful and lasted even after we got back home. Imagination is what Alma Reville taught Alfred Hitchcock, which is why many of us are still nervous about hearing a slight unknown noise while taking a shower.
I remember being terrified about a shark attack after Jaws, and where was I terrified, while having a bath! I had to be clean, but between taking a shower and taking a bath, I had Alma Reville and Steven Spielberg working against me!
What a wonderful haiku. It brings back images from childhood tales, such as Hansel and Gretel.
I am very fortunate to live just a few miles from an ancient oak forest in the Mourne Mountains and the feeling of being watched while walking along the forest paths is familiar.
A few minutes ago I commented on Bryan Rickhart's haiku that immediately follows this one, in which I mention a tree in my hometown that looked like it had features. During childhood my siblings and I used to find faces in the bark patterns of trees, so perhaps they are embedded in my adult subconscious! :)
August 6th, 2020 at 9:32 am
.
old growth forest the feeling of being watched
—BOB REDMOND
Wonderful 'monoku'!
Forests are the realm of the real fairytales after all!
***
a dreaming forest busy as Hitchcock
Alan Summers
The Comfort of Crows by Hifsa Ashraf & Alan Summers
(Velvet Dusk Publishing, December 2019)
August 7th, 2020 at 3:40 pm
Thanks Alan and I love that one of yours too… I can't help but relate it to the feelings of parks in this covid season as well.
August 8th, 2020 at 2:20 am
Thanks!
Ah, yes, busy in so many ways, and this ongoing covid season has done so many thing good, bad, evil, but always eye-opening.
Alan
August 10th, 2020 at 2:36 am
'busy as Hitchcock' is brilliant, Alan. I can just hear all those birds! I saw a stage adaptation of The Birds at our local drama festival a few years ago in which you didn't see one for most of the play, but just heard the sound of them outside–it created great tension.
marion
August 10th, 2020 at 2:58 am
Thank you! :-)
It's true though, and not just the birds, as everything thrives on a constant life/death cycle.
You need to get to Australia in September where it's the breeding season and Australian Magpies can chase you for a whole mile. Oddly I had to escape to a small area of woodland to be safe that day. Even the wagtails are frightening during September.
It's strange that although it's also the breeding season for snakes they wouldn't attack. Despite being repeat attackers (you could be bitten two or three or more ongoing times by a Common or Eastern Brown, they'd just look at me and you could hear them saying 'idiot' or 'English idiot'). But the birds, even a single wagtail, more terrifying than a Magpie, is a nightmare, and drawing eyes on the back of my hat only worked one year!
I guess a play would be highly effective because terror is building up and maintaining tension. The tension would continue outside as well. I remember a particularly unnerving horror movie, even the martial arts master, a mate, screamed at one point. But leaving the cinema, even into a relatively busy London street, was incredibly stressful and lasted even after we got back home. Imagination is what Alma Reville taught Alfred Hitchcock, which is why many of us are still nervous about hearing a slight unknown noise while taking a shower.
I remember being terrified about a shark attack after Jaws, and where was I terrified, while having a bath! I had to be clean, but between taking a shower and taking a bath, I had Alma Reville and Steven Spielberg working against me!
Alan
August 6th, 2020 at 10:11 am
I am right in the forest with you! Magical!
August 6th, 2020 at 10:49 am
I've been there too, Bob.
August 6th, 2020 at 11:10 am
old growth forest
picking out fun patterns
for my masks
August 6th, 2020 at 6:22 pm
gave me the shudders.
I was lost in the awe
that they made me lost in.
If you know what I mean.
August 7th, 2020 at 12:27 pm
Good one, Bob! The Old Growth Spirits are losing their natural habitat. You don't get that feeling on a tree farm.
August 7th, 2020 at 3:42 pm
Thanks for the generous comments all (and additional haiku, John!)
August 10th, 2020 at 2:33 am
What a wonderful haiku. It brings back images from childhood tales, such as Hansel and Gretel.
I am very fortunate to live just a few miles from an ancient oak forest in the Mourne Mountains and the feeling of being watched while walking along the forest paths is familiar.
A few minutes ago I commented on Bryan Rickhart's haiku that immediately follows this one, in which I mention a tree in my hometown that looked like it had features. During childhood my siblings and I used to find faces in the bark patterns of trees, so perhaps they are embedded in my adult subconscious! :)
A magical monoku, Bob!
marion
September 29th, 2020 at 10:20 am
winter trees a sudden rush of crows