imagination time; if you are an urbanite, you are in a place where the skyscrapers are only yards away from each other and they're the size of one persons office, stacked ten, fifteen, twenty high. they're not grey and cold, but browns and greens. not hard and noisy, but soft, cushiony and quiet. very quiet - like an empty European cathedral, radiating that same kind of vibe that you have entered a place very sacred, and you should behave as such. the only sound is the odd human voice occasionally and that of very small birds tweeting - no big bird noises like crows or jays. you make little noise when you walk, as the forest floor is covered with redwood and fir needles. it is indescribably soft - like a rubber track covered with vegetation, so walking is an afterthought not an exercise.
as I was a'venturing yesterday, two lines from an old Genesis song popped into my head - "a magnificent chamber meets his eye" and "only a magic that a name would stain"
you should come.
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