Sydney humidity reminding me of our time in the jungle, so hot that heat rose out of the ground as steam and pulsated upwards into heavy clouds. Here plants would unfurl and reveal flowers in a matter of hours. The forest seemed to have its own presence, living and breathing from below and all around us.
I read recently that trees and plants communicate with each other by sending electric signals through the pathways of fungi in the ground. Trees grow in clusters and when one dies, the family around it sometimes send sustenance to keep the roots alive for hundreds of years. If one learns how to listen, a forest can be filled with these families and their gentle voices. This is only true for natural forests though. Forests planted by humans grow in quiet and don’t communicate with one another.
That Nowhere Feeling 