A soft light glows from the emerald-green moss covering every tree trunk, rock and piece of ground. The glow feels brighter than the light filtering down through the massive Douglas fir and Sitka spruce trees towering overhead, whose crowns prick the silver clouds that obscure the sun.
A trailside stream whispers as it glides over and through a maze of moss-topped rocks worn smooth and round. Farther away the Sol Duc River foams white over boulders and tree trunks and lets loose a roar its deep chasm can't contain.
In magical places like this one, in the heart of Olympic National Park, some people like to sit on a rock and meditate, while others like to throw their heads back and howl.
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