There’s a turning inside out that can happen when you look upon a landscape, be it lake or river or land or sea or anything really. Suddenly each part is not separate from the rest, but somehow speaks of the whole of the landscape. The whole lake (or much larger place) in the plant, the tree, the earth, the bird, the flower, the bee. The whole landscape in me. And so in a way it looks back upon itself when I see, when it sees itself reflected in its parts. The parts recognising itself, recognising me.