"Creek, creek, creek..." The forest was timing with wildlife and plantations. It was as if the forest was a live human, breathing in the harmful gas and breathing out what is most vital to all living things. Noises of insects can be heard over a mile from the forest. The forest was a heaven to the animals, but not the trees living in there. Almost every week you can hear a tree crashing onto the damp forest ground, all thanks to the loud roaring weapon of the lumberjacks.