When the loggers were done and the echoes of their saws had faded away, all that would have been left was a pile of logs giving off the intense smell of freshly cut wood. In a matter of weeks - after being piled neatly in the back of a truck - they wound up at the saw mill.
Now we are in another place, another time. To make these tree trunks come to life again and be more than just a thought from the past, we will have to make use of our memory. And we will have to play, the way children do, stacking them and building with them in an utterly natural, instinctual way.