Beyond the giant trees, the subtle ferns, the hungry caves and the generous glens, in the forests there are voices that root those who visit these landscapes. They are the echoes of a more bestial and fair time, where a thunderbolt is a divine finger and a cloud is a shelter. It is in this scandal of reasonable magic and living ghosts where the sky unfolds downward and impregnates the earth with edible, medicinal and deadly colors. The rains are the council of the gods. CARLOS DOMVILLE