White caps on the Baltic today, and the wind was like radio static in the trees. I came across moments in the forest that felt ceremonial, the ancient rites of geology operating at scales beyond my comprehension. The scene reminded me of New York City’s canyons of skyscrapers, brownstones, and steeples. Perhaps the city can be as sublime as nature. Scale. Creation.
Walking along a narrow road through the woods, a figure appeared in the distance. He was a man about my size and dressed in a black coat, black pants, black boots, and a cap. Just like me. We slowly walked towards one another, and for one mad moment, I was convinced I was walking towards myself, that I’d slipped into some terrible fable. This is the hallucinatory effect the forest has on me. As we drew closer to each other, I saw he was an elderly man with a warm smile. We nodded hello and continued our separate journeys.
