Imagine, for a moment: the quiet, afterwards. Not silence, of course. You, the forest, do not contain silence. You contain the voices of a thousand trees, their branches and leaves, their needles and roots. You contain the grasses, the dragonflies, the birds, the squirrels. You contain darkness, yes: shade and shadow; caves and hollows; but light, too. The fireflies, the dappled glades, the glittering river.