It's fairly bright, with sunlight coming through two windows on one wall. The quartered panes of glass are cracked but clean. The walls, floor, and ceiling are smooth and bare -- the walls and ceiling painted a glossy white, badly chipped and peeling and showing cement block behind them. The floor has dark linoleum on it, clean and well-kept but quite old. It feels like solid concrete slab underneath it; no give at all. Otherwise it's bare. There are cheap lithograph posters on the wall (political), and on one window sill an old glass vase with flowers of some kind -- possibly plastic; they look dusty. There's a table and some chairs, all wood and fairly battered, with chipped paint, in the middle of the room, a similarly battered old flat-top office desk opposite it, and a pair of sofas, dark-colored thin fabric covered with plastic protective drop-cloths. There's an open packing crate in one corner, holding books and raffia. Other than that, it's empty and very quiet; inside it feels relatively cool and even a bit clammy, and outside it's obviously blazing hot and muggy.
Deciduous forest, with things like birch, oak, maple, aspen, I think -- and others I don't really know the names of. Being a conifer kind of person and all that. It seems to be late fall, perhaps, and most of the leaves are off the branches and down on the ground; colorful enough, and giving a good view through the trees. It's not a very old forest; the trees are all about the same age and size -- middling. Very little undergrowth, oddly -- just some winterized bush and shrub skeletons here and there and some ferns. It's cold and clear, basically.
As paths go it's pretty minimal -- the path of least resistance, you could say. It's not obviously marked off as a path or anything, just a thin trail of compacted earth, where people's feet have worn down a thin shallow rut. There are projecting roots sticking out of the path in places, and a few muddy spots or puddles in depressions. It looks well-traveled but not recently so; the leaves are covering it over quite a bit. It's narrow, clearly made by people walking in single file, but the forest is so sparse it's not exactly confining.
A brook, running pretty fast, from left to right; it looks shallow (calf-deep, maybe) and perhaps three or four meters broad. The water is crystal clear and looks cold, and it's got a rocky pebble bed. The banks are short but sheer and largely rocky, and there are a lot of rocks and small boulders projecting out of the stream as well. It's noisy, rushing along and echoing off the hillside behind me in the otherwise very still air; there's a bit of white water or foam as it pours over the rocks, and it swirls along to burble in the eddies under the bank.
An old Coke bottle, 250ml size, uncapped, empty, and scoured clean. In fact the edges are scoured down to a milky translucency. It's not literally Coke, I see -- it's too scuffed up to read, but there's some painted-on brand name/logo in Japanese that I don't recognize.
Longer than usual, totally flat (no groove), simple square-cut teeth, made out of dull gray aluminum, with no markings of any kind on it. I think it's a mailbox key, or maybe for something like a locker or garage door.