Into the Rainforest

Struck by awe and wonder, I stepped forward into the foliage. Here and there, sunbeams cut through occasional gaps in the trees high above: wraithlike blades of otherworldly light thrust into the forest floor. My eyes had now fully adapted to this ethereal dimness and yet, as I beheld the scene before me, I could still scarcely process the rich tapestry of colours and textures woven by the myriad life of the rainforest. The feel of the light, misty rain on my skin was refreshing given the humid warmth of my surroundings. The air was thick and close but it carried a subtle and complex perfume: an ever-changing blend of a thousand exotic flowers.

I was flanked on either side by thick Aphelandra shrubs. At first they appeared to be a homogenous mass of green but, on closer inspection, I could see all the wonder of nature etched on the plants in intricate detail. Beads of moisture balanced delicately on the edges of their sharp, waxy leaves; they caught the narrow shafts of sunlight and illuminated the web-like patterns formed by the plant’s complex network of veins.

Moments later, my attention was snatched suddenly from what lay immediately beside me by a strange, high-pitched noise high in the trees. The call of a bird, I assumed, or perhaps some sort of climbing mammal. I listened closely and, as the sound abated, I started to pay close attention to everything else I could hear: the stridulating of the crickets, the chirruping of the tree frogs and the intermittent cheeping of birds all contributed to the rainforest’s remarkable natural choir.

As I revelled in those thoughts, a macaw leapt forth from a branch high in the canopy and soared majestically through the relatively open space of the understorey. I was captivated both by the grace of its movement and the bright colours of its plumage: its body was a brilliant shade of crimson and its wings were striped in yellow and blue. Above my head a furry sloth slowly raised its head watched the gliding bird uncertainly, its beady black eyes following its path intently for a moment before losing interest.

Ruins of an Ancient City

I step gingerly up the wide, uneven steps. They dip in the middle, the silvery rock apparently worn down over centuries by the relentless footfall of ancient people. Vines and creepers encroach on the stairs from the sides: their gradual invasion a natural reminder that whoever was here once is here no more- long gone now; long forgotten; long dead.

I emerge into a cobbled courtyard surrounded by imposing buildings- all the same silvery grey as the stairs I’ve just ascended. For a moment, I fancy that I can see movement at one of the windows but I know that’s impossible. An eerie silence permeates the city as if the whole world were paying its respects to the fallen greatness of an extinct civilisation. At my feet, ancient columns and fragments litter the floor- clues from the past unreadable to me but perhaps of interest to archaeologists. In the centre of the courtyard stands an old, weathered statue. Perhaps this is a great ruler from the city’s past or even a God its people once worshipped. There is no one left to ask. Its narrow eyes stare at me, as if judging me for trespassing.

Streets lined with similar, though smaller buildings, snake off this central courtyard in every direction. At the far end of the city a formidable pyramid dominates the former settlement, crowned by a temple just visible through the ghostly mist that shrouds its summit. As I resolve to explore the pyramid and begin to set off in its direction, I am stopped in my tracks by a noise- not close but not far away. It sounds like a metallic object crashing to the floor. Perhaps I’m not alone after all…