By The River

Back in February I visited Bannau Brycheiniog (Brecon Beacons) in Wales with a couple of friends for a two night long camping trip. It was an experience I’ll never forget. We trekked up and down mountains, crossed streams, set up a tent during a freezing rainstorm, and slept under the stars for two wonderful nights. It was also a very personal experience. I was incredibly anxious about going, I’m not good at being away from home in an unfamiliar place, and yet I pushed through and went anyway. This was an experience I wanted to have.

This was something I needed to do.

For those who don’t know, I’m a therian, or ’therianthrope’ to use another term. Definitions can differ, but Wikictionary defines a therianthrope as “Someone with an intense spiritual or psychological identification as a non-human animal”, which I’m inclined to agree with.

See, it all started back when I was about eleven or twelve years old. I would sit with my laptop by the window and stare out into the night. Where I live they shut off the street lights at midnight, so you get a really great view of the stars, even in the suburban area I reside in. But more than stars, you get darkness. Not complete darkness, there’s still some light pollution coming from people’s porch lights and cars further afield, but enough to get the imagination going. Enough that you begin to daydream, fantasize, and reflect.

It was especially best during the winter, where I could sit in my chair, huddled up in a blanket, and feel the wind flowing through the wide open window and over my face, enveloping my body in a fresh breeze of cool air. The trees nearby would rustle, and maybe I’d hear an animal in the distance. Maybe if the time was right, the moon would be hung up in the sky like a lamp, casting a pale grey glow. I’d gaze at it, trying to pick out individual craters and shapes.

And I’d imagine myself as a wolf, running into the imaginary forest in my mind, and never coming back out. Free, unshackled by school, or family commitments. There would be no more trying to fit in, no more acting ’normal’, just myself and the environment around me. Understanding nature, as nature understood me. A mutual relationship forming.

I could imagine the cool air running over my fur, the smell of wet grass inhaled through my nostrils, the sound of rustling branches and wind coursing between tree trunks like an invisible serpent. The solid earth beneath my paws and staring out into the misty woods. There would be no one around. There would be no company. There would only be me, and the wilderness before my widened eyes.

I don’t quite know where this idea came from. I did visit several forests as a child, and enjoyed running around, imagining myself living in trees or under a rock. It just seemed natural to me. I was quite an indoors kid despite all this, I lived on my computer, and much preferred playing video games with friends than going outside to kick a ball, or climb a tree.

The image never faded though.

It was always the same forest. The same image. The same sensations. A vivid scene painted in my mind, brought alive by my imaginary senses. It was a place I would give anything to visit. The vision stayed with me for many years.

Over a decade later I was in Wales, on the second leg of our camping trip. We were walking down towards a reservoir, that on the map was depicted as being surrounded by a large ring of trees. We might’ve had an idea to sneak in and camp there, but we ended up deciding against it. As we followed a stream of fresh water, we came across a wall of trees. A thick, imposing, daunting wall of green trees.

The wall stretched from left to right, bending around itself and hiding it’s insides with darkness and wild abandon, like it was clutching itself close to it’s own body. The branches were thick, sealing off the sky the further you looked down from the top. I stood there, gazing upwards and then down, feeling the wind moving in and out from between the trees like an enormous pair of lungs. An enormous, living being, towering before me with all it’s size and strength.

I’d seen this before, the forest in my dreams. I approached the worn fence that surrounded it and peered inside. It was dark, with the stream we followed running through it towards the reservoir. Fallen tree trunks and branches littered the ground, a tangled mess of flora, vying for whatever spare patch of sunlight or earth it could find amidst a jungle of green and brown. There was no law, there was no order, just wilderness and wild abandon.

I walked down to where the stream entered the forest, and sat down. There was a heavy metal gate that had been cast aside by the flow of water across many years, overgrown with moss and flora. The sound of the water rushing past was ever present. The smell of fresh air, the sound of the branches rustling above my head, the cool earth beneath my fingers, and the sight of that dark, imposing forest. Rough, daunting, secluded, but welcoming to those who dare venture inside.

I pulled out my phone and began to play one of my childhood albums, something I would listen to while staring out into the darkness at night, imagining such a forest. LIGHTS , by Wolfgun, conjured up many images of flying above the treetops under a moonlit night.

I was all by myself. My friends were just a minute’s walk away up a hill, but here I was, all by myself, next to the forest I’d imagined all my life. The song Zenith on LIGHTS has the following lyrics, which I was reminded of in this moment as they played from the speaker laid next to me upon the moss:

even though you’re near,
i’m light-years from your dreams
but i feel no fear
it’s the loneliness i need!

It’s funny. Despite our need for social interaction (an aspect shared with many species) there is a certain longing to return to the wilderness, to a simpler time, to where life began, where we can rest and reflect in this busy and chaotic world.

I often find it difficult to describe my thoughts. I think in abstract and unexplainable ways. A complex history with trauma makes it difficult to find the words to express myself, and let me thoughts be known. By connecting with places like this, I begin to understand myself and the world around me, and my relationship with it. Through visiting the locations in my head, I can understand what they mean to me, and connect with my past self. This has been my best attempt at summarizing my thoughts on this highly spiritual day.

I did not venture into the forest that day. I think I saw some people sleeping inside there, and I didn’t want to disturb them. One day I will explore that place, and uncover the secrets it has waiting for me. I will venture into the darkness and find myself reborn, and what truly matters to me.

Some day I will return, to the forest in my dreams.

All photographs/videos in this post were captured by me and are licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0