“Only when one is aware and still, can things be seen and heard. Everyone has a listening point somewhere…some place of quiet where the universe can be contemplated with awe.”~ Sigurd Olson


It turns out that Cleveland is filled with careful observers, able to listen close to the voices of the forest and to then paint a picture of the place with their words:

The crows caw as the leaves go brown. The ivy rustles and the bark falls. I watch in amazement as the earth calms. –Duncan, Gr. 7

A smell of pine wood wafted in the fresh air raindrops falling down from the clear sky as I take a breath and listen to the small serene chirping of birds and look at a leaf. –Ava, Gr. 7

Prickly sabres dripping wet with distant caws and dirty moss, leafy greens so moist and speckled with brown – Fraser, Gr. 7


The moist air blows through the many branches of the cedar trees.
Thin sticks lie on the soft, spring soil.
Sap drips from the little holes in the trees making a golden puddle.
-Ryan, Gr. 3

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