18/04/2025
… …
She drifted into the forest as if crossing a threshold, not just between city and soil, but between forgetting and remembering.
The air was different here—thicker, quieter, filled with a kind of hush that wasn’t silence, but listening. Trees arched overhead like elders in deep conversation. Light filtered down in gold-green ribbons, and upon the earths surface, the moss welcomed her like an old friend.
This was more than an adventure. It was nature bathing—a slow sinking into the pulse of the living world. She let go of her phone, her to-do lists, the hum of digital life. And the forest, in return, gave her something deeper: stillness.
Birdsong stitched the silence. A small marsupial blinked from the underbrush and vanished like a secret. She breathed in—really breathed—and her body responded with an ancient memory of calm. Her heart slowed. Her mind softened. The world, so often loud and sharp-edged, faded into something kinder.
Deep ecology echoed in the leaves above her: a quiet truth that humans are not apart from nature, but a part of it. Not masters. Not visitors. Kin.
She ran her hands through the cool water below, watching the water ripple in response, and felt, for the first time in a long time, whole.
No therapy. No prescription. Just the wild, and the way it reminded her how to belong.
Ngadjon-Jii and Yidinji Country.
