Off Canada's Vancouver Island, the stories could be tall but the miracle is real. Melinda Stevens and crew tend to be swallowed up in a tangled green waterworld.
Should you ever see crazy huckleberries, be sure you grab great leafy shrubs of the things; the small purple orbs taste like the sweetest tomatoes with the tartest of flicks. You are able to pluck at all of them all night, sitting at the back of a pick-up, looking at the woodland's shadows together with light that dashes between them any opportunity it gets.
But this woodland, Vancouver Island's woodland, isn't the kind to ask you in. It's an excellent green tangle, a huge bed-head scrunch of pine and cedar and hemlock. Bears are here. And great marijuana plantations hide into the glades. Eagles fly overhead, and vultures also. Beavers have busy in their dams, making an almighty mess between the lily pads, and shocking the dragonflies whom zip down to their electric-blue machines.