The place where contemplation and closeness are intense, a place in the natural world where bubbling sprouts look towards the spring sun, where bugs swarm in the sun and the soil is black and wet and where the blackbird is looking for food.
Green and fragrant forests, where fruit and berries are still small, fresh blue ocean that cools the feet during the summer heat and the heated rocks which during the night reflect the heat back towards your back.
The smells during the fall, when it’s drizzling in your face and the sun that makes the soft moss glow green between the golden leaves on the forest floor. And mycelium that once again gets room to grow and bear fruit.
Big snowflakes cover the forest in an enormous white winter blanket, which makes everything quiet, oh so quiet, except for the crackling sound of feet stepping on the snow and dry cold air that is comfortable to inhale and transforms into steam that crystalizes.
This is not a romantic dream, but life and the place that has been our home throughout our history.