Among the packet of mail Squirrel gathered from the porch table that afternoon was a postcard for Crow.
In trying his best not to read the note on the front (something about eagles and otters; inlets and bays; dripping clouds and snow-capped mountains), Squirrel flipped the postcard over to see the back, and immediately felt himself tumble head-long into the scene.
Here was a deep, dark forest — completely unlike the woods he knew. He could sense the towering presence of massive, ancient evergreens. And he was convinced that, if he leaned in just a little farther, he’d be able to sniff the moss- and fern-scented air, and feel damp earth beneath his paws.