There was a silence in the wood. Not a mere hush but a profound absence of sound and movement in the ferns and underbrush. Not a leaf stirred in the wind nor a shifting of boughs in the trees. The stillness of stone settled on the living wood like a mighty hand.
If any have doubted that a forest breathes, listen now to this silence and you will hear the absence of it. So often we do not know a thing so close to us until it is gone. Something so subtle and gentle it had gone unnoticed in the bustle of your own personal noise.
Here in this grove where the trunks stand mutely and the shadows do not whisper, I feel the empty space where life once flourished.