An artistic wood

A lunar plain, with some geysers of sulphurous water, which gently plunges into a basin surrounded by fascinating birches. The day was particularly sunny, with a beautiful clear light and the white of the trunks with the brown of the ferns at rest, they made an intense contrast with the sky of a full blue. The trees of the grove were almost all straight as spindles, more or less all of the same size, every now and then one could see a fallen one who suddenly cut this graphic rhythm in half like one of those abstract paintings of the 60s. When you looked up, the delicate foliage of the birches melted into the blue sky and only the fruits in the shape of hanging cones were visible and perhaps some sporadic leaves remained there alone. On the bottom of the basin flowed this river of indescribable color that went from blue, to red to finish with white, where the white trunks created soft reflections as if they had been painted on a canvas. It is known that birches are not normally found at this latitude gave the view of this landscape a sprinkling of magic as well as of one.