I’ve found that the old willow tree by the riverbank, where the water whispers against the rocks, is my go-to quiet spot. I sit on a fallen log, let the sun warm my face, and take deep breaths—slow and steady—so I can stay alert without losing that calm. The only thing that keeps me safe is that rhythm: a steady inhale, a controlled exhale, and I’m ready if a wolf decides to trot by. It’s the same idea for every place, from a misty canyon rim to a hidden glade behind cliffs. Those moments feel like a gentle hug, and that calm breath is the best camera I’ve got.