The Mikmaq on the Atlantic coast have no sound for Nature. They have "space" or "place of creation" ... they have cultural literacy with the ecosystem ... every aspect of nature to Mikmaqs is Spirit. They live in harmony with this intelligible essence. The Mikmaq can perceive the web.
We are made of time. We are its feet and its voice. The feet of time walk in our shoes. Sooner or later, we all know, the winds of time will close the tracks. Passage of nothing, steps of no one. The voice of time tells of the voyage.
