Faithful Forest
- Nara Simhan
- Jun 18, 2020
- 1 min read
I will wait, said wood, and it did.
Ten years, a hundred, a thousand, a million—
It did not matter. Time was not its measure,
Not its keeper, nor its master.
Wood was trees in those first days.
And when wood sang, it was leaves,
Which took flight and became birds. - Albert Rois
Photographs Location : Pakke Tiger Reserve, Arunachala Pradesh
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