The spirits of nature belong to some of mankind’s oldest mythologies. Does the forest have a soul: a dryad skipping through the trees, perhaps? An invisible presence vibrating in the very peripheries of our human awareness? Shapeless, silent, and untouchable, the soul of the forest sings a soft melody of tree song, tasting of the sweet sap of the gods.
Perfume the pulse points of the skin. The inside of the wrists and elbows, the base of the neck, behind the ears, the hollow of the neckline.