A jungle is not a forest. A forest is quiet - it knows what's good for it. Forest chews with its mouth closed and keeps its hands folded. It can be racuous in the morning, when the birds wake, but not like a jungle gets loud. A jungle is the drunk uncle at the reunion; it comes in sequined in bromeliad and takes home someone far too young. The jungle is ravenous, insatiable, all mouth and gut and appetite. Water flows like wine and it howls. In comparison, the forest - even the redwoods, even low in the thick valleys - the forest is prudish and demure, elegant.