Picnic of Terror

I started down my driveway with my lunch in hand. My favorite food to eat outside is a ham and cheese sandwich with mayonnaise, water, and cheese balls in a bag. There is something about this meal that takes me back to childhood. The walk to the park was quieter than normal, the birds were singing, and my feet were beating to their own drum on the sidewalk with a pat tap pat. The normal commotion of dogs barking was silenced as I enjoyed the song of the birds.

I reach the green grass of the park and could feel the stressors of this week start to vanish with the cool wind blowing through my hair. I love this time of the year when the air is hot in the 90s but the wind has this cooler tone to it that is just refreshing. I walk past a couple of families watching their children playing in the splash grounds and playground. Chlorine, freshly cut grass, and dirt perfumed the air. As I get closer to the pond the grass becomes thick like pillows under my feet as the musky, earthy smell of the dark pond becomes stronger.

The pond comes into view with a family of ducks chatting away glide across the calm waters. I could see a couple of small turtles plop in the water as I walk closer to my favorite spot. The sun is bright, and the trees are greeting me with their friendly waves as they sway to the sounds of the wind and birds. A man is fishing on the other side of the pond and seems to be lost in his adventure and doesn’t notice me. I find the perfect place in the deep green grass that beckons for me to sit.

My knees creak like a spooky house screen door as I lower myself to the ground. I smile as I start unearthing the treasures I brought for lunch. I stop for a moment, close my eyes and take in a big breath of the arrays of nature surrounding me when I hear a branch crack in the woods. My eyes spring open to see nothing. Squirrels are starting to chirp in the nearby trees, so I just assume it is them and continue enjoying my view.

As I unwrap my sandwich the smell of the sandwich swirls with the smells of nature which brings me home. I close my eyes again just allowing myself to be in the moment when I feel this uneasiness rush over me. I again rip my eyes open and scan the surroundings. Everything looks the same, yet a dark veil lingers.

I again brush it off and take a bite of my sandwich, yet the eeriness consumes me. My anxiety tightens my chest, my heart is thumping loudly like a bass drum and the song of the animals seems to be mocking me. “What is happening?” escapes my lips to myself. Then the fear from two years ago rushes down my body like a raging river.

I thought I had released this experience yet here it is, taunting me as I try to eat. I ignore this feeling as I know it’s in my head. I take another bite of my sandwich and another taking deep breaths in between. The anxiety is haunting me. I think I hear a slithering behind me as if I’m going to be attacked by a snake. It’s the wind blowing the grass. I nervously laugh and attempt to eat some cheese balls following them with water. The ominous noises become louder. I pour some water into my hands and then place the cool water on my neck. Everything goes quiet for a moment then comes back with a vengeance.

My mind takes me back to two years ago when my partner and I went to a nearby state park for some fishing and a hike. The parks had just reopened and being stir-crazy from being shut in the house due to the pandemic we thought it would be a much-needed adventure. It was an adventure that ended well but started as a nightmare.

We went to the furthest part of the park we could go where nobody was. Social distancing was our main focus while enjoying nature. On the way to the best fishing spot, we saw Twilight size wolf tracks. We kept going. Then we hear this growling and snarling under this footbridge. I froze as my inquisitive partner suspiciously kept walking over the bridge. Before I know it she’s running past me yelling wild hogs. I start running slowly like a victim in a horror film. Thankfully we don’t think the hogs pursued us, but we ran a good mile back before we stopped to see. This experience was so traumatizing I jumped every time anything moved on any of the other trails.

I thought I left the fear in the woods that day. The rest of that trip was amazing. We saw deer, turtles, lizards, and the most amazing mushrooms. Yet here I was two years later trying to enjoy a relaxing meal in my favorite spot in the park and the hogs were back. I took a few more bites yet the anxiety was overtaking me. I quickly packed my lunch back in my bag and stood up when the magic happened.

The moment I stood the anxiety vanished the veil was lifted, and a butterfly flew by me. I froze and was dumbfounded. I decided to try again and sat back down. Almost immediately the anxiety started again. The vulnerability of sitting on the grass was overwhelming and heartbreaking. It seemed I was fine while standing but subconsciously felt unsafe on the ground. The realization of what the hogs stole from me hurt my heart. The tears started burning my eyes until the floodgates opened.

Embarrassed and in shock, I slithered home feeling defeated. Every dog on my path came out of hiding barking at my withered state. A car passed by and honked causing me to jump the laughing could be heard from inside. It was at that moment of despair that I realized that I wasn’t defeated at all.

The thought of walking that park by myself right after the incident didn’t exist. I did though. There was some healing that had occurred. There may still be some wounds left to heal but at least I now know. I started smiling and could hear the birds again. Our neighborhood hawk flew over and, in my head, checked on me. I was going to beat the hogs that tormented my happy place.

Feeling the sun’s heat on my skin, I allowed the experience of the day to flow through my head like a babbling brook. My footsteps started picking up like a drum beat in my head. The smell of grilling filled the air. Tomorrow is another day. I can revisit the park and slay the demons that are residing inside. Then I will be able to travel back home by eating a ham sandwich by the pond.