The “quiet” deep of solitude.

for, though the quiet deep of solitude reigned in that vast and nearly boundless forest, nature was speaking with her thousand tongues, in the eloquent language of night in the wilderness. The air sighed through ten thousand trees, the water rippled, at places, even roared along the shores and now and then was heard the creaking of a branch, or a trunk as it rubbed against some object similar to itself, under the vibrations of  a nicely balanced body.

A quote from Fenimore Cooper, taken from R. Murray. Scheffers discussion of Clairaudience. (Audio Cultures p.31)


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