Rushes of wind in trees and water in rivers. Tick tock rhythm of my poles. Birdsong. Louder screech. The alarm of my watch in the morning. Crashing roar of a waterfall. Of thunder. Gentler falling of a cascade. Of rain. Footfalls on dirt paths. Uneven stumbling steps on gravel and rock. Buzzing of bees and power lines. Cattle bells sounding as a chorus across a valley. Neighing of a horse. Knocking of a hammer. Swishing of my boots through grass wet with dew. Clicking snaps of my tent poles coming together. Pounding of my heart and ears on a climb. My breath. Soft whisper of a breeze. Loud crunching of granola. Voices of strangers. Of new friends. Of family.
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Rushes of wind in trees and water in rivers. Tick tock rhythm of my poles. Birdsong. Louder screech. The alarm of my watch in the morning. Crashing roar of a waterfall. Of thunder. Gentler falling of a cascade. Of rain. Footfalls on dirt paths. Uneven stumbling steps on gravel and rock. Buzzing of bees and power lines. Cattle bells sounding as a chorus across a valley. Neighing of a horse. Knocking of a hammer. Swishing of my boots through grass wet with dew. Clicking snaps of my tent poles coming together. Pounding of my heart and ears on a climb. My breath. Soft whisper of a breeze. Loud crunching of granola. Voices of strangers. Of new friends. Of family.
—Sounds of the Trail