Here There Be Dragons

I’ve heard that mapmakers in days of yore sometimes put the phase, “Here there be dragons” when they weren’t quite sure what should be on the map they were making because the territory hadn’t yet been explored. I suppose they didn’t want to leave the space blank or write “Nobody knows what the heck is here."

Last week, Maggie and I explored some territory where I hadn’t been for several years and where Maggie had never been. We explored slowly; Maggie because she was on a leash and I because of my #!* heel spur. (However, I’ve found that walking uphill on soft ground doesn’t bother me too much.) Maggie wasn’t thrilled that she was restricted, but I didn’t want to take a chance of her running off through territory she didn’t yet know.

Anyhow, as we roamed the woods uphill of Dinner Creek, we found what looked like dragons in the woods. (Well, if you sort of squint. . . .)

A wonderfully fierce dragon?

Is this a dragon or the remnants of a dinosaur?

This one looks more like a surprised troll than a dragon.


An alien emerging from a treetrunk?

When Maggie and I were almost out of the woods, we realized that this territory had been explored after all. We found the tree where my husband had carved his initials almost two decades ago—not long after we'd bought this property.

Dragons are where you find them. Even if the only place you find them is your imagination.