He waited, perhaps for half an hour, for the mist to clear. Eventually, the looming darkness of trees appeared around him. He craned his neck to look up at them but found he could not back away far enough to see their peak. They were impossibly tall. He was briefly reminded of the redwoods of California he had heard about and seen in pictures, such was their immensity. However, their trunks were nowhere near as thick, and they bent and contorted in the manner of smaller, wilder trees. Despite the all-encompassing canopy far above, the forest floor was not all that dark and brimmed with life. At least there was plenty of floral life – he still didn't hear anything. No bird song, no rustling pitter-patter of small animals, nothing. Just the movement of leaves.