Greenspace Alliance of Canada's Capital

 The Silence in McCarthy Woods    photograph by  Ryan James
 
Solitude by Archibald Lampman
 
How still it is here in the woods. The trees
Stand motionless, as if they did not dare
To stir, lest it should break the spell. The air
Hangs quiet as spaces in a marble frieze.
Even this little brook, that runs at ease,
Whispering and gurgling in its knotted bed,
Seems but to deepen with its curling thread
Of sound, the shadowy sun-pierced silences.
Sometimes a hawk screams, or a woodpecker
Startles the stillness from its fixed mood
With his loud careless tap. Sometimes I hear
The dreamy white throat from some far-off tree
Pipe slowly on the listening solitude,
His five pure notes succeeding pensively.