I see technology as a gentle companion, not a replacement for the forest’s heartbeat. It can map old growth, track water flow, and alert us to fire before it spreads, but we must weave that data into the living rhythm of trees. If we listen closely to the wind through the leaves and the patterns of the seasons, technology becomes a tool that respects the forest’s own pace. The key is to use it to support, not to dominate, and to always pause and feel the soil beneath our feet.

I’ll keep my ears open to the rustle of leaves and my eyes on the sky, letting the data guide me without dictating the forest’s pulse. If the numbers ever feel like a shadow over the trees, I’ll step back, breathe in the wild air, and let the woods breathe back.

Indeed, I’ll let the forest set the rhythm and keep the data as a quiet helper, not a master.