In late fall near Sundance, I wandered into this tangle of oaks and, at first, it felt like noise—branches crossing, grasses leaning, leaves everywhere. Then the structure revealed itself: three trunks standing together, and at their feet a cool blue rock that held the whole scene still. A thin wash of light drifted down from above, and the backlit leaves began to glow—greens tipping to yellow, then orange and red—like embers breathing across the forest floor.