You start and it's sticky and itchy everywhere. Spiderwebs, sticking on you fine hairs on your arm, make you wanna scratch. Mosquitos. Insects. On your skin. In your face. In your nose. You are blind … and like a giant creature trampling around in an unknown habitat.
Than … how longer and deeper you follow the narrow leaf path up to the top of the mountain forest … you start to open your senses. You start to see. The spiderweb, that you would have had carelessly destroyed a second ago on your personal blind expedition. The ant colony, that you would have had stepped on a few moments ago on your personal blind adventure.
You start a silent matrix game with the spiderwebs and all living creatures of the forest. Acrobatically avoiding their fine, invisible woven nets. Seeing the predators. Don't wanna be the prey. You follow the heartbeat of the jungle up to the mountains. Just recognising, that the former path of leafs has dissolved into an imaginary leaf carpet, covering the whole ground of the forest.
The sounds of the nature, the songs of the trees and insects swill up. There is nothing else. Just you. Just nature. Oneness. Mosquitos turn into butterflies. There are everywhere. Not one single organism is for itself. They all are connected. The web with the leaves. The death with the living. The creatures on the ground. You are aligned.