"Go as far as you can see; when you get there you'll be able to see farther." ~ Thomas Carlyle
Only when it rains can I walk silently through the cluttered rooms of the forest. The moss has taken up the drink and swelled to a soft and pliant carpet underfoot, spongy and cloud-like where it is deep.
Even twigs, having been rejected and tossed by their mother tree, lying in wait for molds and insects to change their purpose to mother-nourishment, release some of their tension, relaxing to absorb a little of my weight, bending into moss and needle-and-leaf-litter, an imagined creak the only wooden exhalation.
Hours of soft but steady drizzle have permeated the ancient layers of the forest, impregnating dormant and living tissue alike. Pores on those aging and age-spotted leaves that still cling to their mother tree open in a last effort toward immortality. Lichens are washed clean, suffused and sustained as they absorb many times their weight.
Centuries-old heartwood is permeated. Waning energy still succumbs to osmotic pressure as dry leaves moisten like crisp air absorbing the deluge. Animate roots of pine, spruce, poplar and alder gulp the seepage, drinking resilience against the coming frosts.
Carried through the canopy on protean droplets, cinerescent light drapes the trees, the sagging shrubs, the forbs and the moss like a linen sheet, heavy, finely woven, but sultry and translucent in its soddenness.
Dissolving into an ethereal canvas of gossamer as it touches the forest floor, it illuminates the facets of fallen leaves, sparkling between their intricate networks of veins and refracting the light in all the colours of precious gemstones – emerald, amber, amethyst, citrine, opal, sapphire and diamond.