After a few weeks of daily trips to these woods, I began to notice ways in which the dogs have subtly and unintentionally transformed the landscape. Every so often, alongside the trails there are breaks in the brush about the size and shape of your average dog which lead deeper into the thicket, to places where their human guardians cannot follow. I became interested in the aesthetic quality of these temporary shapes and spaces (they disappear with the changing seasons, and do not reappear in the same location), and increasingly interested in how these “dog holes” mirror my own ideas of what the woods represent: solitude in a public space, quiet contemplation, loneliness, and the dangerousness and enticement of the unknown.
Considering the woods from both a cultural and commercial stand point, I wonder about my own relationship to nature and wilderness, and what exactly has informed my opinion of what the woods represent. And how, if at all, that’s changed because of my recent relocation and/or because I have a dog and inherently spend more time outdoors.
I do not want to create a picture of this place, but rather see how much this place can tell me about myself, and in the process question and understand my relationship to nature and the natural world.