One layer always gives way to another in the Pacific Northwest, so that tunneling through canyon emerges into an envelope of thick forest, which opens onto tree-covered hills, held within a basin of snow-capped peaks, all doubled in the mirror of a glacial river so that above, below, ahead, and behind we are wrapped in ongoing beauty. Now a part of the scene, we ourselves become encircled in the clouds which build to protect and conceal this moment, through which it only stands to reason that there is more yet surrounding this, and then that, as far as we dare to keep moving through the layers. Beauty’s embraces contain depths undreamt of, endlessly unfolding one into the next—if only we can allow ourselves to settle into their arms.