‘Beyond the village, to the east, there is forest.’

The opening sentence of Sarah Hall’s short story, ‘Who Pays?’ from Sudden Traveller (2019)

I read this sentence out loud and I want to go a forest, not simply forest?  Why do I insist on that particular article — a — nudging its way into the forest? There is already enough specificity: this land lies beyond the village, to the east. The simple statement, there is forest, turns ‘Forest’ into a character. Forest is both known and unknown, a territory over there. She is the space of the story, waiting alluringly, for us to enter. My need for an ‘a’ to mark her is impatient and unimaginative. Let ‘forest’, in all its mysterious forms, speak for herself.