Into a stand of aspen

摘要

There is a memory, preserved for now in the fragile housing of my mind, of a place in which I wandered as a child for a very long time. It is long before I will become a physician, although I will find myself here often after my medical career starts. I am thirteen years old, and the white trunks of aspen trees stretch out before me, behind me, to every side of me. After five minutes of walking, nothing changes in the gray dawn light. The aspen here are old growth. There is ample space of clear forest floor between each tree, and an infinite number of "paths" through the forest in every direction from me. With every step, a new set of paths appear. I think I am going south but I cannot know for sure. The trees are uniform in that uniquely aspen way, their differences too subtle for me to use any one for reference. They are so tall that the nearest mountains are out of sight. My only other guide is the morning sun, and it will not penetrate that high canopy for hours. For now there is only a diffuse gray-golden light all around. The stand may stretch for miles, but I have no way to tell.