The Deep Forest

In old growth the mystery of life on earth hangs like the moss on the branches. We are small and yet we belong here. The silence says more than words do. In the old growth forests we have walked through in the past few Sundays I like to listen but not to talk. I appreciate a companion who doesn't need to talk and can just listen to the sounds around us, maybe a slight breeze in the branches, a trickling stream, a bird high up, footfalls on the path and our breathing as we climb in elevation.