Davin was a hippy child, he was brought up in the countryside of California, Oregon, and Washington state. His most memorable moments are from these places, between the ages of seven and fourteen, sufficient time for them to settle deep within him. The Santa Cruz mountains, a woody world of rivers, creeks, and redwoods, home life to a variety of snakes and lizards, and this Davin would know first hand as he was an avid collector of each. School was as plain as it gets, you go to class, hit the library and at lunch because of the lack of school grounds you played tether ball or marbles in the sand area. Back then education was about learning not so much sports, children got all the cardio they needed after school and on their days off hiking through the forest with friends, catching lizards and snakes (wink). Davin walked down a twenty minute hill with his sister to catch the school bus on the week days, it was a windy little road with houses set off to the side here and there in the thickets of nature.
Its not that Davin didn’t listen to his parents, but he was all boy, through and through, and anytime something caught his eye and interest, he was sure to explore it. Even though he was told specifically to walk the road to and from the bus stop every day with his sister, his eye caught a glimpse of a path not taken.
It was fall and the leaves of many colors blanketed the ground as he made his way through a tree filled path. The sound of his breath was all he could hear and the vision of a looming silent forest was all around him. Daylight shown through the heavy set clouds lingering just above the mountains and when Davin looked up he would see the rich colors of dying leaves all waiting their turn to fall and join the painting that lay upon the Earth below. Davins feet made a rhythmic crunching sound as he trudged his way through the leafy painting, but as he moved along he began to hear a second set of steps. Naturally he stopped and listened, the silence was almost deafening, and as he began to step forward again, the sound of a second set of feet would return. This time a bit of shock set into Davin and he froze, listening carefully over the sound of his beating heart. As he stood there unmoving, something very strange happened, Davin peeked out from behind a tree and looked at himself standing on the path. A child has never run so fast in all their lives as fast as Davin made his way back the way he had come, back down to the bottom of the path and then up the road to catch up with his sister.
In his winded voice he says, “Diana, I’m sorry.”
Diana turns and scolds him, “Your supposed to walk with me everyday.” she looks as an upset sister would.
“I know,” he says now catching his breath, “Please don’t tell, I wont do it again.”
She nods and huffs a bit turning her back and heads up the hill, Davin sighs with relief, though he was alright, nothing for him would be the same from that point on.
A week later Davin just happened to be sitting at the front door when his stepfather arrived home. The door was left open and the flood light was exposing the dirt drive way area, but you could still see some of what was beyond. He looked out to the dark woods just barely lit from the light, a strange tug pulled at him, almost a calling, as if he was being lured out to play; “You can take the boy from the country, but you can’t take the country from the boy.” All of a sudden this phrase has a new layer of meaning. This was not the last time that nature would touch upon Davin, another time he would be in the backyard of another place where he lived, and the wind would come blowing down aggressively. As Davin is standing within in it, he would all of a sudden be up in the wind encircling, looking down upon himself below.