When I walk through the woods, I enter another world. Everything is in high definition. The breeze occurs in pitches, singing a song for no one in particular. The wind cares not if anyone is listening, for it will blow regardless. Dead leaves, the final victims of the end of winter, crunch underfoot. They care not if anyone walks over them, for they will be crisp either way. It is a warm day, and I find a clearing where the Sun shines just right. I can feel its radiance on every inch of my body. A pleasant pause in the middle of a cold, never-ending winter, today is unreasonably warm. The Sun reaches all the way through me, and melts away the frost which has crystallized over my heart. It feels like magic but I know it is not. The Sun cares not if I bask in it.
It is here that everything exists in perfect harmony. The pine trees, tall and prominent, provide for the tiniest creatures. The puddles, formed from the melting snow, are just as important as the rocks by the shore of the pond. Nothing in nature cares whether it is being acknowledged or appreciated. It just exists. Every day, whether plump raindrops fall from the sky or intricate snowflakes, it exists.
I understand that the woods do not desire a human presence, so I continue walking, leaving as few footprints possible.