The Freedom of the Forest

The Freedom of the Forest
Some of my first thoughts about Black River Falls, a small community of sixteen thousand, in Northern Wisconsin, are of the profound sense of freedom I had when I visited my grandfather’s house. I was allowed to wonder the forest with my grandfather’s dog, Stubby. My grandfather never worried about me wandering alone in the forest, because Stubby always knew the way home. I would give my grandfather that wide-eyed look to escape once again into the forest. “Off,” he would say almost whispering and the adventure would begin. Stubby, a small brown multicolored border terrier would scamper down the sandy path leading into the forest. Stubby named for his short tail, was a very alert, active little dog capable of squeezing through narrow apertures and taking on animals twice his size. My grandparents initially settled in Black River to farm the la...