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As we drive into the camp from four wheeling, it’s getting dark. The bright orange and yellow fire is warmer than ever. Even though summer has its hot days, the nights get cooler. The sweet smell of pine trees and fire smoke cling to your clothes. Ted's bubbly sense of humor starts to show. We laugh and tell scary stories by the fire. The radio plays a soft country song in the background. A blanket of stars shines above us in the black sky. Looking down over the bank, the glimmering reflection of trees, stars, and the moon jump out at you. Being so relaxed, five minutes seems like a whole day. Harley's laid out, not barking at the sound of four wheelers passing by. My dad leans back in his chair and "rests his eyes" for a second.
“We’re here, we’re here,” yelled Alison as she was sitting in the front seat of her mother's Geo.
We finally were there, at the Springfield Fair. The hour and a half drive was over. When we stepped out of the car all you could smell was deep fried food, and all you could hear were screams and laughter as the rides whirled around.
We looked at all the whirly, spinney and fast rides all around until Ashley yelled.
"Octopus!"
We ran over to get in line. Renee and I stepped up in the big, yellow carts for the ride with Ashley and Alison right behind us. When we took off I heard Ashley scream one of her loudest screams ever. Our cart was spinning and spinning, our hair dancing wildly all over our faces.
When the ride was done we walked over by the foods, and you could smell fries, candy apples, cotton candy swirling around the huge metal bowls it's made in, and all the other deep fried smells. There was also the occasional smell of the barn coming with the breeze. All you could her were the screams, the racket coming from the rides, and bits and pieces of conversations as we walked passed.
Again we walked by all the rides trying to make decide which ride to go on next. When Alison said, "We should go on the Octopus again.”
So we did.
I'm from a place in the woods. It is an awesome place to relax, and you can just chill. It’s up in a tree stand that my dad and I made last year. Ever since then, I have been up there from time to time just to sit and think… practically about nothing. I can look up and see nothing but the sky above me and the tip tops of the trees. I can look down and watch the animals below. It is a great place to hunt and see deer and moose and other animals. I hear every little sound possible to hear…from the squirrels scamper below playing tag and gathering food to the trees above swaying in the wind. Just the tree and the tree stand as I'm up there. The smell of the sap easing down to the ground as it fills the air, and the taste the fresh air and maybe a little snack that I bring a long. I only go there during hunting season or during the summer. Sometimes I bring a friend with me, but usually I go by myself, so I can just be alone without anything in the world to deal with or think about. I chill and sit back and watch the clouds drift away above me.
Up on Westford Hill, a beautiful hill where there is nothing but miles of hills and orange and yellow trees, there was a camp...a deserted, red camp. One day a man named Carl was walking a long this wonderful hill when he found this little camp. He then claimed it to be his and lived in it for 50 years. Legend has it that he locked himself in, and no one knows why, and died there. His ghost haunted Westford Hill for centuries and destroyed everything and everyone who got in his way. Now bare trees are seen and loud moans and groans are heard by any living thing that dare stand in the ghost's presence. As his bones in the camp turn blacker and blacker every day, his ghost grows louder and bigger and pretty soon will hover over and destroy Westford Hill forever.
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