A lost piece of land. An apparent silence. A rock and a tree. Do they communicate? Do they talk about the sky, about the scurrying clouds and about the burnt rank weeds? Do they have some secrets? Surely. They do know how it’s magic to listen to anything without a word: each winter invigorating breath and every birds hopeful song in the peaceful stillness of the dawn; to feel the faithful sun caressing their immobolity through the transparent daylight without a shiver; they just enjoy and they just share their spring fever dreams... Because spring is their deepest wish.
And they know so many unsaid stories, they have so many unknown sensations, that this external silence is their force and their wealth.
And their wisdom.
They know that real happiness doesn’t necessary requires to roam the world.