Poodling down the amazon in your little canoe, the outboard whirring like an egg beater and the jungle looking like green wool, all knotted up with sticks and tree stumps, it{s easy to think you have arrived in the {real wilderness{. You think that as you drape your fingers in the muddy water - Amazon mud - Amazon water, and as you watch big chest-beating clouds gather ahead for a yodelling session of Pantheon proportions, as you dodge the plate-sized butterflies and the fork-equipped bugs. You think that until somebody cuts the engine.
Then! Then you realise that you are not in the wilderness until you are in its silence. Being freed of the engine fast-tracks you out of what you thought was {peace{ into what IS peace. And the biggest surprise of it, the thing that{s a little sad about it, is that it{s the sort of peace we have forgotten to remember. Silence without the buzz. Without the engines of thought, tv, worries, schemes, doubts and all... a silence so delicate as to be los ...