A tall, beautiful tree, soaring high above in front of me. When I encountered the tree, I couldn't help
but look up high into the sky, where the tree was soaring to. The dark, streaked outline of tree against grayish-white sky looked like a outline of a gate to a different world.

Here up in the Poly Canyon, graciously unfolding landscape invites me to the world of imagination.
Distant cry of crows and chirping of unknown little birds, along with whispering silence of breeze all accompany well with the landscape here.
Circling and intersecting paths of crows leave invisible mark in radiant silver sky- as if it is a representation
of time continuously freezing, layering over and over again.
The hills are so green. Their curves are so sensuous that as if a very careful sculptor formed and smoothed his clay with great gentleness until the curves are the way they should be. Light, sweet breeze wraps my skin and hair around. Little birds are continuously chirping. I sit here, watching, breathing, and listening.