A Morning Inside Jim Corbett

I entered Jim Corbett before the day had fully opened.

The forest was still waking up. There were sounds I could not name, movements I could barely see, and a kind of alert silence that made me sit straighter. Every rustle felt important.

I had gone there hoping to see wildlife, but the forest taught me something else first: patience. You cannot demand a forest to perform for you. You can only enter respectfully and wait.

That morning, even without a dramatic sighting, I felt lucky. The trees, tracks, mist and distant calls made me realise that the wild is not only about animals. It is about entering a world where humans are not the centre.