"The past is never dead. It’s not even past." — William Faulkner
A Walk With Echoes from the Into the Woods series
They say Old Caleb walks the forest trail every morning, just before dawn, long before the mist lifts. Some call it a habit. Others, a ritual. No one really knows where he goes—only that he always returns alone, his dog padding faithfully beside him, the both of them etched in silence.
There was a time, years back, when the trail was alive with chatter. Laughter from the town’s children. Lovers whispering secrets among the trees. Caleb was younger then. Had a family. A life made of warmth and dinners by firelight. But things changed, as things tend to do.
It began with the girl—his daughter. Small and bright-eyed, always running ahead on that same path, her giggles chasing after squirrels. One morning, she wandered too far, and the fog came in heavier than usual. They searched for days. Weeks. But the forest had already decided.
Caleb never moved away, though everyone expected he would. He stayed, bought a dog, and began walking the trail every day at dawn. Always the same time. Always alone. Some say he’s looking for her. Others say he sees her in the fog, and that’s why he smiles sometimes—just barely—as he vanishes between the trees.
People have tried to follow him, but the mist always thickens too quickly. It swallows sound. Steals time. They lose sight of him within minutes, and when they return, they’re never quite sure how long they were gone.
Some townsfolk whisper that the forest knows Caleb now. That it mourns with him, or perhaps protects him. Maybe he made a deal with it. Or maybe grief simply reshapes the world around those who carry it long enough.
On certain mornings, when the fog hangs low and the woods fall completely still, you might catch a glimpse too—of a man and his dog, walking that haunted trail. Just before they vanish. Just before the day begins again.
And if you listen very carefully… you might hear laughter. Small, and far away.