Off in the wilds of central Oregon, the Lost Forest is an isolated stand of ponderosa pine and western juniper, around 9,000 acres in area, around 4,000 feet in elevation. Surrounded by arid high desert, the Lost Forest is sustained by an anomalous composition of soils that somehow hold enough water to support tall trees in an area of low rainfall.
“These eighty-eight keys are my Walden,” composer Morton Feldman said of piano keyboard; look at the guitar’s six strings and resonating body as another sort of refuge. From the flow of events in one’s life, from the complexity and conflict and professional constraints of other types of music-making. There are no expectations here, only possibilities. There are no answers here, only questions upon questions.
A forest is more precious in the desert, a poem more treasured in a torrent of prose. Set aside the news, set it down at the gate, put on a good pair of shoes, walk into the woods. The secret garden is there waiting for you. If you want in, all you have to do is ask.