Light through trees. A path. Nothing else. No noise. No clock. No reason. The sun comes in low, seven or eight beams at once, each one solid enough to hold. Mist sits in the middle distance and refuses to leave. It's in no hurry. Neither am I. The ground is dirt and old leaves, soft underfoot. Every step makes its own small sound. I walk slow. Left foot, right foot, breath. The beams move as I pass them, or maybe I move through them. Hard to tell. Maybe both. Somewhere ahead the path bends and goes out of sight. That's fine. The not-knowing is part of it. I don't need to see the end. The trees are tall. Taller than they look in photos. The air is cold. The light is doing all the talking. I let it. I stop where the beam hits the path and put my face in it. Warm for a second. Gone. I keep walking. My boots are wet. I don't care. The forest gets quieter the deeper I go, which I didn't think was possible. It is. #forestpath #morninglight #quiet
