Modesty (Dispersion)

I walked into the woods following a muddy road that went up a hill and led to a creek fresh with cold water that splashed over large dark rocks dappled with new light after showers during the night under oak and maple trees. There were deer tracks in the gravel on the other side where the deer had come down to drink or to cross. But what is my point? I’m getting to that. I stood there by the deer tracks and I thought if it were just me standing there beside the creek under a maple tree then I was the most insignificant thing there, not the large rock behind me covered with moss, not the fern and roots of trees that snake around it, not the trees, not the water on the rocks, not the muddy banks, not the myriad of grasses and flowers and weeds, not the fallen leaves, and not the other animals that had passed through and left only the faintest traces.