The next thing I notice is the mud. It's been only a few days since I last walked in the woods, but it's rained hard since then, and paths that were packed are now spongy, pliable. My boots leave an impression.
The stream is gurgling. The forest has greened and expanded with the much-needed moisture. It has moved up and out. It holds me as I walk, sifts its stillness down, a gift, a benediction.