Fate and professional circumstance has often placed me in pristine wilderness areas where one can abide for months without encountering a single human being. Food and other necessities of life must be either packed in or done without. Transport to the location is by helicopter drop and pack animals are a mute point. Isolation from the human race is total. I have loved these events dearly, and the National Science Foundation (NSF) is delighted to fund such excursions because strange lunatics such as me willing to do research in such locales are hard to find. I can imagine the discussion around the funding committee conference table: “Hey, look at this! Here is a nut case applying for a research grant to study fractal analogs in pristine ecosystems of the Montana wilderness. There is something you don’t see every day and he is only asking for fifty thousand. Why not Central Park in New York? It’s got subways and pastrami sandwiches. Let’s fund him and see if he comes out alive!” It only takes about a week in such a place to transform utterly the customary civilized routines. The first thing to go is the sleep cycle. All of the foregoing narrative is presented exclusively to explain why, at 2:00 AM in the morning I often found myself walking along moonlit forest pathways (in complete possession of my faculties I assure you). The ineffable beauty of the wilderness at such times is a marvel to behold. The entire character of the forest bears no resemblance to what is seen in the daylight hours. I am now far too old to embark on such excursions, but my memory of events is undaunted. I have created more than one-hundred renderings trying to illustrate the wonder of this spectacle. Today’s offering is one of them (my prior rendering “The Bewitching Hour” is another). It does not even approach the magic of the reality. Still, I hope I have been able to convey some of it. Created in Ultra Fractal.