I have a thousand jokes about dryads, it’s really quite ridiculous. I only do comics about other topics to give you all a brief reprieve from the dryads.

Spring is here in the North East and, as usual, I can’t really help but commemorate the changing of seasons with a goofy comic strip.

I’ve always found Satyrs and Fauns a rather fun concept. Dudes with goat-like features traipsing about the forest, lusting after ladies of all sorts is kind of hilarious. Despite their goat-like features, there’s something quintessentially human about them. Lovers of wine, women, and music, they always seemed to be engaged in living a very physical and pleasurable life. Greek art and mythology is often very sexual, so the Satyrs’ predilections and focus on getting it on don’t really come as any surprise. What is somewhat surprising, however, is the origin of the satyr as a kind of old and ugly monster and its gradual concept-shift toward becoming a figure of youthfulness, freedom, and the natural world. This shift seems to be a microcosm of the same adjustments we see in the rest of Greek myth. Most of the deities and nature spirits began their existence as part of a more animist tradition; personifications of natural events and formations. Deities that were, at one point, far less rich and textured (and far less human) evolved in the minds of the people as a more humanist perspective took root in Greece. Where Zeus was probably once more of an abstract concept, he later became the womanizing, highly powerful and sexual figure we know today. The same happened for the satyrs and nymphs of the woods.

With this shift, what was once probably a frightening creature became a source of humor and a reflection of the pleasure seeking behavior of the people that created it. Satyrs were always ready for another cup of wine and always ready to bed a lovely nymph or lady.

I imagine they were always on the lookout for moments like the one in today’s comic. Winter rolls in and the trees lose their leaves, so what do they do? Check out the now naked dryads! The cold months probably weren’t so bad for them. Though, I can’t say I’d envy the dryads, shivering away in their trees while perverse little goat-men leered at them from the bushes.

Anyway, sorry for the late strip! Better late than never, though, right?