Highway 101. Northbound.
In some mysterious way woods have never seemed to me to be static things.
In physical terms, I move through them; yet in metaphysical ones, they seem to move through me.
John Fowles
I would add mountains and the Pacific coast to the list. All three seem to have similar impact on me. There is a place where all three merge into a harmonious melody: California-Oregon. Then on across Columbia to Washington. Primeval bodies of the redwood giants reaching for the sky, tiny drops of moisture sparkling on fern leaves as precious gem stones, endless stretch of secluded beaches, mysterious blanket of fog lifting in the afternoon. Too overwhelming to be wrapped in words or captured in images...