If you 飛ぶ down (or is that up) towards the 床 of the Great Valley, you will see that its 空白表面 is actually canopy of an enormous 森. The 夜空気 is clean, and the wake of your フライト over the leaves gives off a small glow that makes everything visible to your well-tuned negative-seeing 目（複）. You can hear the calls of 個別の木（複）, calling out to their scattered relatives and parents, and the creak of the trunks that try to turn this way and that, straining to understand the messages that are being passed to them through the 地球, through their roots. Each 木（複） feels the missing others as phantom limbs, roots and leaves that should be there, and which at times act as if they actually are 接続された, though in truth they are 遠い away, and in some cases were logged and sawn 30 years ago.
