There’s a place in Lithuania that is not apart of this world. It doesn’t exist there. Its its own separate little bubble, unbothered by the disturbances outside it. It’s the most natural place I’ve ever been in. By that, I mean that when I step foot in it, I forget technology and man made things exist. I forget that cars, airplanes, stores, and phones exist. It feels as if I’ve gone 1000 years back in the past, in a time where man did not infect the world with its knowledge. Its bare, devoid, and empty of all humans. Life rules this part of the world. Nature is the king. Stepping in its bubble, I feel like an intruder. 

This place is called Cepkeliu Raistas. It’s the largest swamp in Lithuania. I’ve been there every summer since I was a little kid. Every summer it’s the same. We walk the same dirt path we’ve walked for years through the forest. We’ve memorized every tree in the place, we never get lost. We know were getting close when we start to smell it. My aunt always said that if the wind is blowing in our direction, we smell it even stronger. 

It is so silent, your ears ring. You can sometimes hear the birds, but even they don’t want to disturb the peace. The wind rustles the leaves of the birch trees and gives you goosebumps, even in the middle of the summer. Staring out into the swamp, I’m always astounded at how its never been touched. I could probably count the people that have been in this place on two hands. There are areas in this swamp that have never been touched by man’s foot. Sometimes, my aunt and I like to take off our shoes and go inside. It’s a scary endeavor, as one step you might be on solid dry ground, and the next, you might be knee deep in squishy swamp moss. We don’t care though, we purposely try to walk into the muddiest parts. My aunt sometimes gets on her knees, soaks the water out of the moss with her hands, and drinks it. As a kid this used to always freak me out, but now it doesn’t. The water isn’t dirty, it’s the purest you’ll ever find on the planet. We look for unripened cranberries and try to judge how great the harvest will be in the fall. Sometimes we talk about the different bird calls we hear or the trees around us. Sometimes we just sit and listen, taking in the rare silence. Leaving this place always makes us sad. There is nothing here to bother us. No mosquitoes. No scorching sun. No howling wind. No noise. No world. Its just us and nothing else, and I don’t think I’ll ever find a place like it ever again.