My daughters grew up in this west coast rain forest. Both have declared that they prefer a misty day in the woods to clear skies and sun.
My growing experiences were near Montreal, and this place still feels alien. I recall the autumns days of my youth filled with razor sharp cold clear days, leaves turning followed by bare deciduous branches in the sky, and the first dusting of snow.
Here it is wet and soft. The damp air from the Pacific is clean and fresh. It quickly picks up the fragrant forest essence of decay. [If you cannot see the rest of this article, please click on the title. And wait for the pictures to load... ]
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