The NY Times featured an article on Friday titled “Home, Sweet…Yikes!“. Apparently, I’m not the only one suffering from nyctohylophobia. That’s right, there’s a word for it. It’s a fear of dark, wooded areas. The article didn’t say if the phobia only effects neurotic New Yorkers or if people are inflicted in other parts of the country as well.

If you’ve read our about page, you’ll know that we tried to live in the country and failed miserably. Like the folks in the Times article, I ran from my car to the house at night, kept my shades drawn and woke up to eerie sounds in the middle of the night.

It was not all in my mind. Like the time I thought a bear ate my dog. The dogs were outside and it was getting dark, so I called them in. When only one showed up, I went looking for the other. I was walking through the woods calling her, when I heard a rustling behind the trees. Thinking it was her, I walked quickly towards the sound, only to discover it was a bear eating something off the ground. My dog, no doubt. I looked at it and it looked at me. When it went back to eating my dog, I slowly backed up, then ran for my life! I called my husband on my cell, even though I was probably 100 feet from my house. I remember hearing my breath and the leaves beneath my feet. I thought of the Blair Witch Project, which was popular at the time. My husband went out to see the bear. I think he took a small rock with him. The dog came back from the other direction. I think both dogs were spooked by the huge beast and ran faster than I did. My husband came back too, unharmed.

The article also mentions fear of hunters. I only feared stray bullets, but I didn’t fear the men. I loathed them. They would come on my property and kill animals. We once found a dead deer missing it’s head. A trophy for some asshole. So, when I was standing near my kitchen window and saw a guy walking on my property with a shotgun, what did I do? I chased him through the woods, cursing at him like the craziest New Yorker you’ve ever encountered. I don’t know if he ran, but he walked faster than I could keep up. I never did see another hunter on my property again.

I had good reason to keep my shades drawn and lock my doors too. Our neighbors, two elderly sisters, didn’t understand boundaries. They would peek in our window and walk into our house, whether we were there or not.

And the eerie nocturnal sounds? Have you ever heard coyotes at night? When they have something surrounded?

See? I’m not crazy. Am I?