# An encounter (?) with the Dark Woodsman

I own and manage woodland, and I'm often alone in my woods at dusk. At such
times the forest appear to be endless, especially when the fog rolls in, which it
often does in the autumn. It's not surprising that you hear... stories in 
densely forested regions like this.

Local folklore tells in particular of the Dark Woodsman, a shadowy figure 
only ever seen from a distance. His face, apparently, is never visible, but
he carries an axe and a billhook. We've all seen movies, so we know that
such an apparition is to be feared. But, in fact, if you find yourself
alone in the woods, trapped under a fallen tree with night drawing in, 
a man with an axe might be exactly what you need. The Woodsman is an
unpredictable character: 
I've heard stories of how he's guided foresters both away from, and
towards, danger.  Whatever his motivations are supposed to be,
nobody can say.

I've never see the Dark Woodsman and, sceptic that I am, I doubt that
such a creature exists.

And, yet...

Yesterday I was working alone in my woods, two miles from the nearest 
dwelling, and three from the nearest place a cellphone works. I was cutting
down diseased and dead trees. As usual, once I had felled them, I sawed the
tree trunks into six-foot lengths -- the largest I can carry without putting
my back out.

I had one of these cut logs balanced on my shoulder, as I  
made my way carefully towards my trailer. Suddenly, I felt something
draw me forward. I didn't have a sensation of being pushed, rather
of being pulled. An odd feeling, and one I certainly wasn't expecting. 
My immediate response was annoyance -- who's 
messing about with my work? 

I dropped the log, and looked around. 
I do occasionally get unexpected visitors -- usually walkers who have
become lost in the woods, and heard my chainsaw. 
On this occasion there was nobody nearby.

As I was scratching my head and wondering what had happened, a branch fell from a tree, and crashed
to the ground exactly where I had been standing a few seconds ago. 
The branch probably wasn't large enough to imperil my life, had it hit me --
but it would certainly have
ruined my day. Medical assistance was a long,
long way off. 

I was somewhat disturbed by this turn of events and, for a moment, actually
wondered whether some supernatural force really had moved me. Perhaps the Dark
Woodsman had decided to do me a favour? My mood swung rapidly from anger to
bewildered relief.

I soon realized what had
happened, though. The tree I had felled was rotten, and riddled with woodworm. This was,
after all, why I'd had to cut it down. The log I was carrying was so weakened, that
a piece a foot long had come lose, and fallen from the end behind my back as I was carrying it.
This changed the weight distribution so the log was no longer in balance;
the front dipped down and pulled me forward with it. I know this happened
because I eventually found the missing end of the log on the ground, under the fallen
branch.

So there was a completely mundane explanation after all. No Dark Woodsman, for
better or worse. Still, it was an odd coincidence, one of the many occasions in
my life on which chance events have come together for my benefit.
If I hadn't been able to work out exactly what had happened on this
occasion, I can well imagine me in the pub later
that night, telling tales of wood sprites or the like. I might have started
a new superstition or, in a more credulous age, a new religion. 

I don't wish to see the Dark Woodsman, and don't expect to. Of course, for
other people wandering lost in my woods at dusk, perhaps I _am_ the Dark
Woodsman.



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