Bright light comes through the window but casts no shadows. The room smells clean and fresh. The linens are crisp but soft, all white with white embroidery. The bedside table holds several tempting books and magazines as well as a graceful pitcher of cool water and matching glass. Across the wood floor, a cozy afghan has been draped over an inviting armchair carefully set near the fireplace.
Tall sequoias shade most of the forest floor, limiting the underbrush. Needles blanket the ground. Although individual tree trunks are still distinguishable a good distance in, I cannot see through the forest to the other side.
Entering the forest, the path is easily followed as the needles have been pushed aside and dirt shows through, but soon it seems to disappear. I am not worried about trying to follow a particular path, as they all seem to be equally interesting. It is wide enough to wander easily without brushing against underbrush.
A river runs slightly downhill from my right to the left, gurgling and splashing in and around partly exposed rocks and boulders. It is wide enough to cross by hopping from rock to rock in about a dozen jumps.
A tall straight-sided clear glass. It is cylindrical and of small diameter.
The key is about three inches long and seems to be brass. It appears never to have been polished, but has a simple and clean design. I would guess it unlocks a traveling trunk or a small door.