we traipsed into the woods like Hansel and Gretel…except, well, we were the parents. with our mini-me folk in tow. and there was no gingerbread house to be found.

that, and getting lost in the woods in PEI is damn near impossible because if you keep walking you will, indubitably, end up either on a beach or smack-dab in the middle of some nice farmer’s field. with cows.

but still, the woods. and we were trespassing because the only hiking trail i know of around here is part of a government park that’s currently - alas - for sale and locked down for the season so really we were far more wary of park rangers than witches but then, i have authority issues anyway. and there was the smell of pine needles and the slip of moss on old roots underfoot and i remembered coming out to this trail an angsty high school emo kid with my emo friends to write tortured poetry and commune with nature but damn, i did not remember the trail being so steep or my sad legs so jiggly.

nor did i remember the woods being so silent…not a squirrel in sight, to Oscar’s crushing disappointment. nor a birdsong to be heard.

and i wonder if the gumdrop houses haven’t eaten them all up.