In the forest at sunset where liquid light coruscates through the pine trees onto the blossoms of heather everything is alive, sentient, numinous and waiting for our playful and adventurous engagement. The sound of a swallow’s wings as it cascades past is a symphony of micro-rhythms and micro-sounds. I smell the temperature and humidity of the air, the nearby dog rose and wood sorrel and the sea three miles away. I hear the tidal rush of my warm blood, my steady heartbeat and the falling of pine needles. Deer become shadows and disappear deeper into the trees following ancient pathways. Jackdaws are circling overhead. The patterns of shadows cast by the trees deepens in depth and complexity. The colour and texture of the light slowly changes, becoming tinged with gold. Tiny luminous lacewing flies move past and fly together forming mysterious ideograms in the air. Thousands of plant and animal species and human beings have shaped this land over millennium and all are here in some way now in the eternal present. The inclination of rays of light through the trees is part of some vast language and even the space or angle between two trees speaks and is meaningful in some way. The sound of the wind through the trees is the ancestor’s breathing. All of our world is like this every day, it is protean, curious, alive and filled with mythic secrets.