I've driven past this forest every day for over a decade without giving it a second glance, but then one day I wondered what it would be like inside. At first I only explored the fringes of the forest, apprehensive of the seemingly impenetrable darkness within which there surely could be nothing of interest. But eventually I plucked up the courage to step inside, alone.
I soon discovered that darkness was not absolute, light penetrated the edges of the forest and deeper in it filtered through the tall canopy. There were noises too. The wind causing the trees to creak and groan, sticks falling, animals hidden from view quietly complaining about their intruder. And in the periods of silence, the sound of my own footsteps and my own breathing, perhaps more unnerving than anything the forest could offer.
Despite the uniformity of the regularly planted trees there were variations, there was life, and there was death. Like those who chose to watch horror films for an adrenaline rush I found I wanted to find its darkest centre and be scared. (buy the book here)