The Unknown by Hayley G.
Artwork by Hayley G.
The fear of the unknown stands silent among us just as it was hundreds of decades ago. It waits for the suspicious rustling of dry leaves to hearken to its presence. Sometimes, dread can creep in while staring into a darkened treeline at the edge of a sunlit field. The uneasiness and wonder of what could be lurking just out of view is haunting. What would be waiting to grab you and pull you into the gloom?
My childhood was enriched by tales of dark, enchanted forests. I voraciously read every fairy tale book at the library. I learned everything I could about dragons, goblins, and werewolves. In addition to reading, I had begun cultivating a love of drawing, and practiced sketching everything I could see. I was fortunate to grow up with a large prairieland in my backyard, so every piece of paper I had stolen out of our printer tray was filled with trees and animals. I remember the grass in my backyard being so golden and tall, towering over my little head and stretching endlessly for miles. While crunching through patches of viridescent weeds and brightly colored flowers, I would stumble upon a decaying animal — sometimes just its bones — and wonder if there was something with large teeth skulking nearby.
At night, my neighborhood would get so dark that I would be unable to see past the weak rays of our back porch light. I would sit near my bedroom window nearly every night and try to make out the shape of my neighbor’s barn in the distance. The tree frogs trilled and raccoons scuffled with each other. Somewhere further away, coyotes sang in a ghostly chorus. I would play fantastical scenarios in my head about accidentally being locked out of my house in the middle of the night and needing to make a perilous trek to that barn for shelter. What creatures would I see in that short, brisk walk in the darkness? In reality, most of the things that I could’ve met would have likely left me alone, but the thrill of potential dangerous encounters was immeasurable fuel for my imagination.
Now that I am much older, I have since learned much about the wildlife in the fens and prairies around my home. I continue to draw oak trees and the downy woodpeckers that come to visit my yard. I brush past the tall big bluestem grasses as I hike through old deer paths. I now understand the origins of those nixies, malevolent fae, and blood-drinking demons that I used to fear. Yet, despite the abundance of knowledge I have gained about the world beyond the trees, the familiar uneasy feeling of eyes watching me still creeps into my mind as I walk down each wooded trail. The fear of the unknown is as old and deep as the wilds itself, and it will continue to inspire others like me for generations.
Artwork by Hayley G.
Hayley is a designer and illustrator inspired by dark folklore and fairy tales. She enjoys making art of mysterious creatures and researching the folklore of wild areas under the name @PrairieBones: https://linktr.ee/prairiebones.
She has also art directed and published an independent magazine alongside two talented folklorists about superstitions from around the world called Salt&Mirrors&Cats, which can be found here: https://superstitionsam.com/salt-mirrors-cats/.
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