There is a silence in the woods after a rain… or perhaps it only comes in between rains… but it is an overbearing, overwhelming, and quite intimidating silence. It actually pushes down on you. Pushes all thoughts down out through your toes, until you can consider nothing, but the silence. There is no rustling of the leaves, they are all wet and heavy. The various creepings, and shufflings of the creatures are muted. The air itself is heavy, pregnant with the imaginings of discontented poets, and sad painters. In this great silence, one can only look inside for something, some sign that there is something alive in this forest.
And that is when it happens,
that is when I see that there is life in this forest, in this world around me.
I feel it growing.
I move inside
I am no longer alone.