I grew up on the edge of a little wood -- it was mostly ‘young’ growth, to be honest, not anything like the ancient woods in this book -- but I can remembering adventuring through it as a child, and how once you made it past the brush and briars on the edge it receded into this creepy, quiet forest floor littered with old leaves and trillium. I remember a giant boulder that I would go read on, and past the boulder was a giant old felled tree, and once you passed the rise on the other side of the valley the floor would change to sticky mud at the lowest points, and there, I can remember thinking that magic had to be real. Mythago Wood maintains that not only is the magic real, but our fairy tales and myths come to flesh and blood life through our collective memory. This was like a much, MUCH darker Bridge to Terabithia in that you cross the threshold, and you're in a different world were magic exists and exerts its influence on your life, and I’m frankly shocked that I hadn’t really run across it before, because it was outstanding. I’m really glad I ran across it, and I know it’s going to leave shockwaves on my memory for quite a while.