Torrijos Wilderness
Tuesday, April 5th, 2011I was walking in the woods one afternoon. Shafts of sunlight penetrated the thick undergrowth. It is quiet, so quiet in fact, that I don’t even hear the rustle of leaves. I stepped on a twig and it snapped, then birds flew in the distance. It’s that kind of quiet, it’s the very essence of wilderness.












The language of eternal silence.
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