My walk started off briskly, walking through the paths taking pictures left and right and trying to capture something in action; trying to find something that will pop. I became tired with this routine and decided to take a sit in the middle of the surrounding forest. I related myself back to Emerson’s and Thoreau’s time trying to put myself in their positions. “How did they do it?” I asked myself as I glanced at my cellphone. I closed my eyes and slowly removed the hood of my jacket. The answer then quickly came to me. The sounds of my surroundings made me shiver with excitement as if I found a new song. The rushing waters nearby were the chorus and the howls of the coyotes were the lead singers. The movement of the trees completed the song as their dry branches made swishing sounds and brought the whole sound of the forest together. I then knew what I had to do. I turned off my cellphone and began to wonder deeper into the forest with my hood down, ready to find new songs within my surroundings. I opened my eyes and found that everywhere there was something new, something that caught my renewed attention. I felt at peace and in solitude in this forest. I sat and listened some more. It seemed like two years before I decided to get back up and take pictures. This time when I walked I walked slowly and began to look affectionately at the beauty the forest was trying to show me. I took many pictures and found that a new sound came with each different picture. The leaves made a sound similar to paper skimming the ground and the rivers rushed with life and loudly provided backup vocals. It was all too enlightening to describe with words. These pictures are my only memories of my experience, a secret only me and my forest know. Instead of rapidly walking through nature, I walked as if nature was my lover and walked slowly and passionately together.