These are some of the masks that forest spirits use when they appear to humans, so that we can comprehend their essence.

An entry from the diary:

The forest air is heavy with dew, each step I take pressing softly into the mossy ground, the scent of earth and sap rising with every shift of my weight. The light filters through in narrow beams, a fractured mosaic of green and gold.

That’s when I see the first spirit.

It emerges from the undergrowth in a shimmer, wearing a mask of rippling flesh and iridescent colors, as though the forest itself had sculpted it from lichen and mushrooms, witness of a time that is older than bones. It emerges from the soil like a natural root growth. It gazes at me with slow, unreadable patience. Its eyes are like prehistoric pools fermenting with hidden life.