In the forest, the silence fills me. In the forest, the sound of silence seems to be more noticeable. There are the sounds of the wind whispering through the leaves of trees, bubbling creeks as they cascade over the terrain, the rushing of water, a branch falling here and there, trees rubbing against one another, birds calling, life unfolding. There are the obvious louder sounds, then the smaller more minute sounds, the ones you can barely detect. As the trailhead gets further and further behind, as the hours or days grow longer, as more time passes surrounded within nature, the sensitivity to these sounds is heightened. The sensitivity to our environment grows more acute. One can almost feel the silence between the sounds. For me, it translates to a feeling of collective beingness, where just the mere presence of the trees, plants, earth, etc. creates a vibration which is felt deeply within. It is barely noticeable, until we awake to it. I notice it more as felt through the body, and if I allow it, it expands to a feeling of oneness with the surroundings, just one felt sense of presence, just a feeling, no thinking. I remember feeling incredibly grateful in these moments. I am left with the mantra repeating in my head and heart, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”