When you arrive at Frog Bay Tribal National Park, you’re greeted by an info kiosk, simple restroom facilities, and a sign of welcome requesting respect for the land and culture of the people who steward this bit of earth. After crossing a sturdy bridge over a deep ravine, the path takes you deep into boreal forest, home of paper birch, maple, red oak, balsam fir, and ash. The trail winds along a riparian corridor as it descends through the trees and coastal wetlands toward an undeveloped stretch of Lake Superior shoreline. The Apostle Islands dot the horizon when you stand on the sandy beach, where the hush of the forest meets the whisper of the waves, wild silence conversing in an ancient language. It was a calm day when I was there recently, so the conversation was a quiet one, but when the wind picks up, I imagine the hush becomes a howl and the whisper a wail. There are a multitude of ways to encounter silence
"...wild silence conversing in an ancient language." Yes. This. Thank you.