Nature is three dimensional.

For example, a forest has length and width but also depth. The distance from loamy floor to sun-bathed crown can sometimes be two or three hundred feet.

Deep container.

When I move into the forest I enter it, insert myself and my sense organs into the living body of the forest. It surrounds me from all directions - 360 degrees - up, down and to the sides.

In contrast, developed landscapes seems to have only length and width - a predominantly flat land. There are stairs and elevators that transport me to different levels in tall buildings but the levels themselves are flat— a series of connected platforms I can easily navigate. I am not challenged to think of my world as having any more than two dimensions most times.

But Nature reminds me I live in a three dimensional womb-like container.

This is especially apparent on contact zones - borders between two and three dimensional natural communities, like when meadow meets forest.

I stand in a grassy meadow and appreciate the openness and sights that land on my eyes from a distance. And there is an obvious line - a border where the meadow grasses abut the first rank of forest trees - two dimensional meadow meets three dimensional forest. I try to notice these doorways - portals into more-apparent three dimensional Nature.

As I cross I sense the front of my body - my nose, cheeks, chest, the fronts of my legs as they pierce the membrane of the forest container. I am enveloped by the sights, sounds and sensations of this different natural community as I cross.

Yet even when I'm inside a forest I sometimes get more interested and focussed on the two dimensional forest floor, the trail I am walking. I remind myself to sense up and down, to be open and to accept the sense-stimulus that comes from above and below as well as front, back and to the sides.

I am surrounded on all sides by gifts and offerings.