Fresh deep green forest. The light is mild, very delicate, the sky seems infinitely distant; the freshness of the air is delicious; at the bottom of the ravine the torrent sings; under the ferns the stream sings ... One always ascends, amidst the silence, among the dense bush, by a wide path ... The human voices are silent ... There is only this immense, boundless forest: only this tall vegetation exists. We are hundreds of miles away from the town: perhaps the world has died behind us.
Excerpt from Matilde Serao, Corriere della Sera. 1886
