![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seraiI recently found this in one of my notebooks. It was written a few years ago, and since I doubt I will ever use it, I thought you folks might find it interesting.
The light among the redwoods is reminiscent of Van Eyck, especially the Madonna in the Cathedral: that same cool clarity that invites quietude and awe. It's hard to talk in the forest, for there's so much to listen to - the hymns of the crickets, the tolling of the birds, the prayers of the trees. Occasionally a deer passes invisibly by, stepping a delicate sermon. The boles arch up through perspective towards the celestine cupola, creating in gothic touch an interlacing of greens to rival any gold leaf. There is not an inch of space that is not patterned, embroidered, inlaid with detail, living arabesques and rococos of life and death. Fierce seedlings spring up roaring through the submissive loam, shaking themselves free of the dead and delicious detritus, a brave and silent chorale.
The light among the redwoods is reminiscent of Van Eyck, especially the Madonna in the Cathedral: that same cool clarity that invites quietude and awe. It's hard to talk in the forest, for there's so much to listen to - the hymns of the crickets, the tolling of the birds, the prayers of the trees. Occasionally a deer passes invisibly by, stepping a delicate sermon. The boles arch up through perspective towards the celestine cupola, creating in gothic touch an interlacing of greens to rival any gold leaf. There is not an inch of space that is not patterned, embroidered, inlaid with detail, living arabesques and rococos of life and death. Fierce seedlings spring up roaring through the submissive loam, shaking themselves free of the dead and delicious detritus, a brave and silent chorale.
