I’m terrified of bushes. Just the sight of a hedge makes me flit around, looking over my shoulder. Well maybe not so much anymore, but bushes, hedges and pine trees used to scare the leg warmers off me. Every time I passed one, on the other side of the road, of course, I shrunk up my body and got past the threatening landscape feature as fast as I could.
I can thank my mom for the fear of bushes. She always told me that the bushes were where bad people hid and one could jump out at me at any time. Walking around my manicured suburban neighborhood was hell.