There is no quiet place in your cities, no place to hear the leaves of Spring or the rustle of insects wings....
The Indians prefer the soft sound of the wind darting over the face of the pond, the smell of the wind cleansed by a midday rain, or scented with pinon pine.
The air is precious to the Red Man, for all things share the same breath- the animals, the trees, the man. Like a man who has been dying for many days, a man in your city is numb to the stench.
I love this , I think it shows us how true this is now. We basically have no place left on earth that isn't polluted. I took this picture a few weeks ago . I love to hear quiet sounds. I like simple things, a walk in the woods , looking for unusual rocks. Looking for birds and taking good pictures. What do you like?