Why I'd Rather Go for a Walk in the Woods Than a Night on the Town

Well, hello there. Fancy seeing you here. How've you been? Me? I've been positively fine.

What am I going to talk to you about. Well, I'm afraid I haven't completed another massive piece of creative writing this week, nor do I have an interesting anecdote to share with you. You may be wondering why this update is going out so early, well, truth be told, I kinda procrastinating in that I really should be writing up an interview for English Language. Either that or figuring out what I can fill an hours worth of time with tomorrow when I'll be on the radio again.

I've been managing to avoid procrastinating too much lately. I've started learning the guitar again (this time from an excellent free teacher online who goes by the name of Sask Strum). I've also been giving myself a larger amount of time to complete essays and homework than I normally do which is reducing my stress. Well, partially reducing my stress, anyway.

I'd like to talk to you today about my weekend and since this is my blog, I probably will do. You see, yesterday I found myself having to go into town in order to pick up some books for college (Dracula and Doctor Faustus, if you're interested) and today I had to take my dog (a Lakeland Terrier named Archie, if you're interested) for a walk.

During my trip to town, I got what I came for, took a look around some shops and got home in time to cook the first meal I have ever prepared (a spaghetti bolognese, if you're interested). During my walk I lost my dog for a panic-stricken five minutes (he turned up in a field, if you're interested), twisted my ankle and damn near froze to death.

And yet, I would take the walk every time and I'd like to explain why, and if cracked.com has taught me anything, it's that if something is worth saying, it's worth saying in list format:

1. The People

Imagine crossing paths with a stranger in a town. Well, you hardly need to, towns typically are full of people. But what happens? I'll tell you: Nothing. No eye-contact. No spoken words. Not even a remote acknowledgement that the other person is there. Nothing.

In the woods, if I see someone, I'm guaranteed to at least get a smile from them - a nod. If I'm lucky, I could even get a few remarks about the weather or where I was going. People seem friendly and ingratiating.

"But Joseph!" the people cry, "You cannot honestly be telling us that you, a positive paradigm of solitude, could ever find solace or comfort in the words of strangers!" Well my garrulous friend, actually, I kind of like it. I don't like deluges of people, great masses and oceans of them, all uncaring. What I like is solitude broken by the occasional friendly greetings of a few people. Which is exactly what I find in the woods.

Fewer people make the times where you do meet feel special, for both parties.

2. Privacy

Correlating to the above point, in a town you are surrounded by people, watching you. Passively watching you, yes, but watching you all the same. When I am watched, I become extremely tense and very self-conscious. Or at least until my mind starts to wander onto something else, at which point it will inevitably snap back and I'll wonder what minor acts of foolishness I have performed in the meantime.

In the woods, I can do what I like. Do I suddenly feel like running? Well, run all you like! Has a song come on my iPod that I love to sing along to? Then sing it! Am I bored with the path I'm walking down? Take a random new one! Need to pee? There's a tree!

3. It Looks Nicer

In town, everything is composed of adverts and signs on concrete; bright primary colours on dull grey. Everything feels like it either really wants me there or wants me to go.

The woods, even at this time of year, are full of a thousand shades of green and orange, blending together into a picture perfect landscape.

4. It Costs Less

I am notoriously tight fisted and it would take a pack of wild horses to happily separate me from what little money I have (because, hey, everyone wants a pack of wild horses, right?). My trip to town cost me approximately £20 in total. My trip to the woods? Nothing. The perfect day out.

5. The Feeling

Ok, this one is hard to pin down, is probably a combination of all the above and is going to take a few metaphors, but here it goes:

Imagine being a spider in a room, now imagine there is a person in this room, in fact, the room belongs to this person. Now imagine that this person has noticed you. Now imagine this person doesn't really like spiders, but can't quite be bothered to get up and kill you. Imagine what you feel (overlooking of course the fact that the brain of a spider is infinitely different from that of a human and its emotions would probably be incomparable to our own).

That is how I feel in town. I feel like I don't belong there and that there is a vast intelligence that doesn't want me there, but can't quite be bothered to do me harm. A sort of passive aggressiveness, only originating from some superior being.

In the woods, I get a similar feeling of un-belonging and vast intelligence, only imagine this time the person whom the spider-you is sharing the room with doesn't really mind spiders and in fact sort of likes them. It doesn't do anything as obvious as communicating with you or making life easier for you (Why would you want to help a spider?), it only radiates a quality of acceptance and warmth.

In short, town seems to be radiating the feeling: "You do not belong here, please leaves as soon as is convenient." while the woods generate a feeling of "Though you do not belong here, you are welcome to visit."

So, there you have it. I hope I haven't bored with my inane ramblings of passive aggressive towns and ingratiating woods. Anyway, I must go now, a 1000 word interview of Sri Lanka doesn't write itself...