The room is small and cozy. It is painted a deep shade of violet, with undertones of blue. There are two large floor to ceiling windows that are draped in rich velvet with brocade. The sunlight streams in, warming the room and infusing it with a rosy glow. The furnishings are overstuffed, upholstered in velvets, moire silk and chiffons, all in shades of blue and purple. The accessories are Victorian in nature and made of porcelain, wood or marble.
The forest is of old growth pine, a carpet of needles underfoot. It is like a cathedral, massive trunks soaring high, blocking out most of the light. The scent is intoxicating, though.
The pathway is clearly delineated, lined on either side with ferns, mosses and lichens. Small, brightly colored mushrooms are interspersed throughout.
The water is a languid stream, crystal clear almost glowing green from the slippery seaweed beneath. Here and there are water lilies and irises along the shore. The water bubbles over rocks and eddies along its path. When I touch the water, it chills my hand.
The cup is carved from a solid piece of jasper, highly polished, exposing the rich rust, black and white colors beneath.
The key is a simple iron skeleton key. It opens a small door, cleverly hewn out of a large yew tree.