We were looking for the Moss Garden at the Bloedel Reserve on Bainbridge Island during the Seattle 2011 Garden Bloggers Fling. The map had been studied and the docent had been consulted.
It was raining, hard, but we had umbrellas. The misty, shadowless forest was emanating magical vibes that were being received by my daughter Semi and me. She had accompanied me to Seattle to partake of the gardens and meet the folks she had heard so much about.
On the way back to the bus, after the David Perry photography class and after Victoria had soothed and entertained us with her piano playing and songbird voice, Victoria and I walked the path that went by the magical tree so I could show her the face in the tree trunk.
* * *
A Tale of Arcadie
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. …
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