The forest does not rush.
It does not raise its voice.
It simply stands—quiet, wise, patient—and invites us to slow down enough to meet it.

I hope to guide you there one day.

Sixty seconds make a minute.
Sixty minutes make an hour.
Twenty-four hours make a day.
We mark months—some with thirty days, others with thirty-one, and all with at least twenty-eight.
Twelve months shape a year. Ten years form a decade. A hundred become a century.

Have you ever truly seen a tree?

Not just passed by, not simply noticed it out of the corner of your eye—
But really, truly looked?

When you do—when you stop, breathe, and open your senses—you begin to realise that a tree is not just part of the landscape. It is the landscape. Its presence made visible. Quietness given form.