The fondest memories of my youth include hitting people with sticks and throwing people out of trees. I was probably only about 8 years old when I started masquerading in the woods as a Robin Hood type character. Along with me I had about 7 other outlaws. Daily we would go into the woods and change teammates on our different Klan’s.
Someday’s we even had up to 12 kids parading through the woods on missions to free friends and seek vengeance for unjust acts that had been committed in our territory. Literally jumping 30 feet in the air from one tree to the next was no large task, it was done almost automatically when a foe approached and was gaining fast on you. Especially when you carry a wound from a battle, the adrenaline will make you do crazed things. Without hesitation or second thought we commonly committed feats which would have caused our parents to banish us from the woods. Trees were used to cut down and turn into weapons. There were throwing sticks, swords, staffs, and an entire array of undecipherable weapons that were used.
Going into battle included tying sticks to your shins so sword blows wouldn’t hurt and using sap to thicken the skin on your hands so when the sword went uncontrollably smashing into your hands it wouldn’t hurt as bad. I proudly wore the title of king of the mountain. When there was no snow we climbed a steep hill that went straight down about 12 feet into a grass field. Uppercuts and hooks were not uncommon ways of getting a nemesis off of the mountain. I even had a special attack where I would squat, jump, slap the victim in the face, land, and sweep there legs out as I hit them in the knees and stepped on their feet. This would inevitably cause them to crash into the ground.
... ring marks a line between the dark late wood that grew at the end ... the ground through the stem. A tree ring is simply a layer of wood produced during one tree’s growing season. A cross ... section of a tree often shows a distinct pattern of concentric tree rings. Each tree ...
It was almost every time someone was hit off the cliff that we had the wind knocked out of us. If a blow were too forceful then other people would hit you with sticks. At the end of the day we outlaws would be covered with dirt and blood with several abrasions. I loved those woods and think fondly of them whenever I reminisce upon my early childhood. One of the Greatest adventures we had when the entire group of us was together as one Klan occurred when I was in 3 rd grade. A grand fort, which had been constructed at the joining of the two Klan’s, Abu Dab i, was being invaded.
Drumbeats were strong and coming from every direction in a field that had scattered trees and was about 20 acres in size. At the edge of the tree line smoke could be seen. Slyly we stuck aside the tree line to see what infidel had made the mistake of venturing into our territory. Upon examination it became apparent that this person was some sort of insane deranged tie-died mongrel. We yelled and the drum stopped and the smoke left. We ran inside to the woods surrounding the fort and there was not a person to be found.
There was no fire in the fire rock place, and there were no broken twigs or tracks. Suddenly the drums started again about 200 yards from where we were, at the edge of the wood. Hastily we sprinted to the woods only to be disappointed again. We started to walk out into the field to commence battle with one another for leadership of the Klan.
In the middle of the field we heard the drum again. We turned around to see a solitary figure, long hair and headband, with no drum. The drums indeed were being beaten though. We gazed at the tall dark figure as it looked on.
When it bent over to the ground, the man picked something up. He then crushed it in his fingers. ‘Who are you?” we yelled. And as the man stood up and vanished a low rumbling voice could be heard ‘I AM THE GHOST OF NATURE’.
Oh shit! We all ran, dropping our swords and our sticks we reluctant to not trample one another. Everyone fell foot on hand face on leg and stomach on ground. Scrambling to the main road continued at full pace. Not a single person slowed down to climb down the hill we played on so violently.
... that occur in a person's life help the person mature and, hopefully, one day, that person will not want to ... his anger out on that person who assaulted them. So, when a man hits his girlfriend or any female ... hit him back, and knock him out. A man would feel really pathetic because he may have thought ... consequences in store for one. Another consequence a man could face if one hits a female is that ...
One bye one, person after person fell down the hill twisting ankles and wrists but continuing to run. No looking back we yelled, run run run! Once we got to the road we all proceeded to make jest at one another-‘You were so scared,’ ‘Shut up nah uh, you were”Ya scream like a girl”I saw im I saw im”You almost peed yer pants”Sissy, sissy ” Everyone was scared that day and it was the topic of conversation for several weeks. We continued having our battles, but nothing, truly nothing compares to that day. The sheer beauty of the woods and the feeling that it gave me was amazing, and the vision I still have in my mind of a man vanishing is still as eerie as it was the day it happened. I still play in the woods, every summer I make a point to visit the old fort and remember friends that have moved away and grown apart from me. I wonder sometimes, do those friends I remember, remember me.
How ironic it would be I think, if I ran into one of them reminiscing in the woods about that day in the summer. That day when our faces were red with blood, and our hearts full with nothing more than love and play.