It Should Not Be This Way

Safety in the wild | Bare trees, bent swan

It should not be this way.

On the morning of the US election I found a punching bag hanging from the branch of a tree by the canal. There was a carpet of golden leaves in a circle beneath it, and a big red punching bag. A man came out of the nearby boat and I stopped taking a photo, worried it would draw attention. But I still held my phone high, visible; look, I have a way of communicating. I am in touch with others. Do not hurt me.

He ran off. He did not say hello. Probably, he did not want to scare me.

There is a lake where I swim some mornings. I park by the roadside and my anxiety levels are directly affected by how many vans are parked up. Probably they are dog walkers. Fishermen. White vans are the ones I fear most. Often, as I walk, I dodge people. Always, if I pass a man, even one with dogs, I make a fake phone call. Yes, I am just coming, be there in five minutes. You’re by the lake edge? I’ll be right there.

I had a conversation recently with a good friend who was on a walk alone. She hadn’t seen anyone for the whole walk, so she was probably safe, but then also she hadn’t seen anyone the whole walk, so if she wasn’t safe, where would help come from? But then, she said, maybe attackers and murderers are not out on lovely country walks. In such a wide expanse of empty land, the opportunities for murdering must be low. But then, we wondered, maybe murderers are opportunistic?

It sounds flippant. It is flippant. Because how else do you deal with a constant threat? Because it sounds over the top, and probably you don’t need to make the fake phone call when you pass a dog walker, because most men aren’t going to attack you, because most men are good, because most of the time it is fine. But. But sometimes it is not. Enough times to make every woman familiar with this feeling. With being out on a walk in wide open country and always judging where you would run, where you would hide.

Be careful, someone once said. But why should we have to be careful? Why should we limit ourselves to staying small and safe. The outdoors should be for everyone; I should not have to limit my joy. I should be free to walk in the wild, on the streets, late at night, in the dark, without limit. Without fear, without compromise. I will not live a smaller life because of fear.

It should not be this way.

In a week when the most powerful country in the world has elected a man with multiple sexual assault allegations, it is hard to write a piece about taking solace in nature, even though that is what I will continue to do. It is hard to feel creative. It is hard to create, even though that is what we must do. Even though it is more needed than ever. Maybe first, we need to rest.

So. This is all I have today.

That morning on the canal the tops of the trees were completely bare and I met a dog with a red handkerchief around his neck and I stopped at the edge of the lake and watched a swan, neck bent to groom its chest. He was right at the water’s edge. He was so close and yet unbothered by me, as I stood quietly, watching. His neck, bent into a loop, so thick, so strong. He was intent. He dug his beak through his feathers, flicked his neck up, splashed something away into the water, a hundred spreading ripples from the splash. Back on the tow path there was a new canal boat called Tolly Owl. The leaves had left the virginia creeper bare and I fished a crisp packet from the water with a long stick and I stared at the yellow leaves dotting the black surface of the unmoving canal and I breathed and I was small and I was filled. It is all still there.

It should not be this way.

I hope it will not always be this way.

Still we will go on.