Jungle

At the far end of the valley, past the village of Huay Bo, I found a small trail that led up the mountain and into the jungle.

No photo can capture the complexity of the visual and aural sensations that one experiences here. The light is muted in ever-changing bars of shadow and shafts of blinding sun. There is no foreground or background with which to register sight and location.

Those things that are within reach are a vivid mosaic of growth, decay, movement and death. Orchids, rotting stumps and roots, exploding growths of every creeper and vine imaginable, all competing for the filtered, life giving sun. And all are growing on the collective remains of the dead, lying in thick layers on the jungle floor.

Sounds are muffled, omni-directional and spooky. Life is all around, moving and calling. One hears life in the jungle far more than one sees it.