The humidity of the moss caresses the roots of a European spruce tree, making it even more alive, lustrous and vital. Just under the bark, the spruce bark beetle carves out its lethal tunnels, which look like primitive works or cave paintings. Meanwhile the forest ceases to exist, only earth and broken trunks remain. A man appears in the midst of the debris, the equipment he carries suggesting he is a sound technician. Every now and then he holds up a microphone towards the sky: he is listening to the voice of the forest being reborn.