Whispered somethings are always mixed into the gentle sounds of small streams deep within canyon walls... They become part of the music of rain too, both as it falls and then when it strikes about us... Whispered somethings can be sensed just beyond the mists and fog of settled clouds on our solo summit days... They are heard as well when the winds move through old growth trees among the giant coastal forests...
These voices speak so quietly within the waves that caress countless small stones laying patiently upon an open ocean beach... Whispered somethings will always be found among the breezes that pass over shimmering midsummer heat as it moves across ageless desert rock...
We intuitively know they are there... We feel how they call for our return...
We have all heard them... All sensed these so special whispered somethings...
Sounds so soft, voices so quiet, they speak to our very being, say things to each of us in our own unique adventure ways...
They always say just what we need to hear, using a language for our own inner ear.
They help us understand what it means to balanced in mind, body, and spirit while wandering.
There are so many special wild places where they patiently linger, these ancient somethings, that we quietly listen for out there...
DSD
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