The woods are an ominous and scary place in European fairytale tradition. It harbors witches and threatening animals. Children get lost or marooned by their parents. At the same time they house the little birds and friendly eremites, people who are willingly good and helpful.

　　

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;   
He will not see me stopping here   
To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer    
To stop without a farmhouse near    
Between the woods and frozen lake    
The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake    
To ask if there is some mistake.    
The only other sound’s the sweep    
Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   
  But I have promises to keep,    
And miles to go before I sleep,    
And miles to go before I sleep.

　　　　

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
By Robert Frost 1923

The living things hide themselves in the woods, then we can not make sure of their exist. They appear as the deep and big woods in our imagination, and always come in contact with our world.

The overabundance of the power of spiritual beings is truly amazing. Looking for them, they cannot be seen. Listening for them, they cannot be heard. There is nothing that they do not embody. They cause the people of the world to fast for purification, and wear beautiful clothes in order to participate at the sacrifices. They are overflowing, seeming to be above, seeming to be on the left and on the right.
（The Doctrine of the Mean, chapter 16.）

　　　

In “The Lake Isle of Innisfree” W. B. Yeats describes his utopian desire to life in the beauty of isolation.

Being caught in the city, his mind drifts of to a small house on a remote Islands in Lough Gill in County Sligo, Ireland.

The conception of living in an ascetic manner in direct connection with nature, freed from the bounds of civilization might seem as a romanticism, but nowadays more needed than before.

I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

　　　

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:

Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

　　　

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;

There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

And evening full of the linnet's wings.

　　　

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,

I hear it in the deep heart's core.

　　　

　　　　The Lake Isle of Innisfree By William Butler Yeats 1893

　　　

An Island is a single piece lost in endless homogeneity. In that sense everything could be an island.

　　

A tree in the fields.

A well in the desert.

A ship in the ocean.

A stranger in an unknown city.

　　　

　　　

　　　

　　　

　　　

　　　

The nature of the ocean is ambiguous, though. It might isolate the one islands from the other, but it is the tide and the wind that is connecting them at the same time.

The East Asian Monsoon affects the Islands of Taiwan and Japan and constitutes the climate during the entire year.

The monsoon wind changes its direction depending on the season and gives a decisive influence to the attitude of people at the sea and to the life and the sense of value of the earth surrounded by it.

The web site of 『Dream of High rise by C.Y.Lee 』is begun from today , 5 April 2012.