What about the thousands of trees at various stages of life and death in the forest, where nature takes its course? I am reminded of the dense woods that I wandered through last September on the Isle of Raasay, just a short ferry ride from Skye in Scotland. With the wind and falling twigs it was far from silent; the collage of trees wasn’t simple; and I had no sense of solitude as I wandered through. In fact, now that I think about it, I was happy, and yes, anxious to get out into the open meadow where I could look across to the Cullin Hills of Skye. On that beautiful day, without even the contribution of inclement weather, nature was not offering me silence, solitude or simplicity.