text: At the entrance to the Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve, six trails fan out before me. From this position, they all look the same: lush and dense, though I know each will reveal its own unique set of wonders.
  As I begin my trek, I’m struck with the sense that I’m entering a sort of sacred cathedral where nature reigns supreme. I feel myself quickly sedated; lulled by a sweet silence that quiets my mind and heartbeat with each step.
  The trees lining the path stretch upward into a sheltering canopy — an arched ceiling of emerald stained glass, softly filtering beams of sunlight.
  Rising from damp, aromatic soil, reverent ferns and palms reach verdant fingers toward the sky in prayer.
  Flowers and moss express joyfulness in their own ways; one with ecstatic eye-catching vibrancy, and the other with a humble subtlety as it steadfastly climbs the trunks of trees.
  Somewhere ahead, I hear the song of rushing water. Before I reach it, the trail divides and I again must choose my path through this enchanted forest.
  The voice of the hidden flowing water grows more insistent. I follow my ears, round a bend and stumble across a highway of white water, surging through the leaves and tendrils.
  I stay, transfixed, forgetting about time. I’m alone here and it feels like my waterfall, my secret Eden.
  Creatures stir along the path, and I have to look closely to discover their miniature movements in this place of tip-toeing silence.
  Some sort of animal pushes through the brush before me, unseen except for flashes of dark fur. My brain darts to a poster I’d seen on the wall of the reserve’s ticket office, which depicted several types of large cats…including jaguars.
  A white-nosed coati saunters onto the trail, sniffing the ground with purpose, seeming not to notice my frozen posture. It’s several seconds before I remember these animals are essentially harmless, they’re scavengers like raccoons. I exhale.
  The muddy trail halts just shy of mid-air. A metal bridge is strung from cables across a precipice. The trees that previously acted as the roof to my glorious natural cathedral are now fearfully extended, grasping upward from a seemingly bottomless gorge.
  I begin to cross, feeling the pricking of my nerves as the rusted grates beneath me start to sway and bounce with each footfall. I glance down furtively at the lush pit as I shuffle by.
  On the far side, I scurry away from the wriggling metal monstrosity and let go a great sigh. Not so bad after all.
  Soon I start to realize that the gently inclining trail has tricked me, the elevation is very high here. I know because I have gradually, finally… stepped into the clouds.
  They float around me like delicate, humid breaths of lace, curling through the canopy. Everything is slick and ghostly and glistening with condensation. Wet diamonds cling to leaves, drip from moss-draped branches, and shimmer from the tendrils of ferns. The enigmatic mists absorb into my sleeves and pant legs whenever I brush against the crowded plants as I move up the path. It’s spellbinding.