The three of us stroll along the beige tiles, sprinklings of real sand around, to the passage. A field worker gives us a handout for the El Yunque Rainforest Room and offers us a sound visit, while conceding we'll pass up a portion of the more normal music of the space on the off chance that we do. We pass on the earphones and stroll through the passage, where the air is wet and warm.
The swarming trees withstand the sprinkle as a counterfeit daylight channels through the thick leaves. We stroll around the winding trunks, going outside of what might be expected toward the quavering croaks of more tree frogs. Father revealed to me tales about how when he was my age he'd race up the trees with his companions, get frogs and offer them to different children who needed pets, and now and then s
