‘One can roam about at ease there (among tall trunks that look something between bronze and rubber). They are well-stripped. Of all low branches. There’s no anarchy, no tangle of vines, no encumbrance. One can sit right down there, stretch out at ease. A carpet prevails over it all. A few stray rocks supply furnishings, a few flowers hug the ground. A purportedly healthy atmosphere prevails, a discreet and tasteful scent, a vibrant yet gently pleasing musicality.’
from The Pine Woods Notebook by Francis Ponge (trans. Lee Fahnestock).