In Praise of Forests

As a Silvia, I've always felt a special attachment to forests.
Symbolic and mysterious, forests hold some of the mother's womb features and trigger the powerful fascination of the unknown and unexplored.
In fairy tales, forests are often an obstacle to be overcome and their crossing a door leading to adulthood.
Their sounds are those of nature, reassuring in that they aren't man-made, scary because, used to the city, we are unable to name them.
Their gnarled shapes offer protection from the sunlight at daytime but turn into long-armed living creatures when hit by the moonlight.
Wandering around the Tate Modern in London, a few days ago, I caught a glimpse of a forest. It was Max Ernst's Forest and Dove, a magnetic painting dating from 1927. Ernst did feel the fascination of the forest and dedicated a series of paintings to it. He even gave a definition of the forest, answering the question "What is a forest?". His definition fully grasps the duality of the forest and of the feelings it arouses.

"The wonderful sense of being simultaneously outdoor and in; free and imprisoned".