The room is cold. The walls are plain, painted a light glacial blue. The are few items of furniture -- a pine bookshelf, a low divan bed with a striped cotton throw, and old cream carpet on the floor. There is one large wide window, high up on the wall. The window frame is unpainted wood and diffuse bright early morning light floods in.
It's a subtropical rain forest. The trail, as it leads into the dim, dark green forest, looks like the entrance to an ancient cathedral. Huge figs, cedars and other rain forest species tower overhead. The light is dim and sounds are muffled. Moss hangs from branches, and a thick understory restricts visibility on either side of the trail. Birds call fitfully.
The path is narrow, but wide enough for two people to pass each other. It is a little uneven, and roots stick up here and there, but it is easily walked. It twists and turns, but generally I can see about 50 metres ahead. It is obviously well-traveled, and I feel quite safe, although it's a little eerie.
The path ends at a crystal-clear creek which flows across a stony bottom. The banks on either side are low, and lush plants overhang the water. Upstream is a beautiful stony cascade which plunges into a clear rock pool: downstream the creek bubbles over rocky outcroppings. The water is clear and slightly brown-tinted, cool but very inviting.
It's a XXXX beer can, with its distinctive red and yellow label. I'm annoyed at the evidence that others have been here before me, and feel contempt for the person who felt so little concern for the pristine beauty of the forest that he/she could leave a beer can behind.
The key is a large, old-fashioned brass key. The metal is a bright untarnished yellow. I'm mystified as to what it is doing there -- it looks totally out of place, and looks as if it is meant to unlock a big old-fashioned safe or strongroom.