The most precious moments in the forest aren’t the big, flashy glances of a rare bird, or mammal, but rather the quiet things: a trail of ants steadily working their way up a tree trunk, the brief moment of absolute silence before a bird’s call, the early mroning sunlight behind a plant. MacRitchie is full of runners nowadays. There’s nothing wrong with that – I run myself – but when you’re focused on beating your best time for a 10k, there isn’t much time to appreciate the small things.
Saving MacRitchie 