Gentle

They tower above me and I am not sure where to look.  I look down and gently step over a plant that I hope is not poison ivy.  At my feet is a bed of pine needles, a fallen tree off to my side.  I wonder if mushrooms are growing near the stump.  The sound of water rushing is off in the distance, otherwise, it is eerily quiet.  It is a sunny day, but beneath these trees it is cool and dark.  I want to become part of the quiet. With each step I challenge myself to disturb my surroundings the least.  But, I am clumsy, maybe not now, but just in general, so even in my attempts, I hear small twigs snapping beneath my feet.  I finally stop where I am standing and decide to look up.  All the way up to the tree tops.  I hear that trees are connected, that they communicate.  I can almost hear them murmur, "Well, at least this clumsy, little human is trying to be gentle."