I walked near the dark heart of the forest: a place where the woods are so tall, so thick, so old that you couldn’t see but five feet ahead of you before being lost in a billion pine needles, cedar boughs, deep green hawthorn branches and thick red madrona.  The boundaries are marked by windthrows, nursing logs decaying on the bottom to red dust and thriving above with ferns and shoots.  The path along is only ivy and Herb Robert with patches of wild flowers and thorn bushes drawling low against the damp soil and fallen foliage.

To continue reading, please see the original post at “A Vision in the Forest“.