Deciphering the language of trees is akin to sorting shadows in the fog. As the leaves quiver, a message emergesβenigmatic as a bark-clad oracle.
When autumn's dubbed hue alights upon the grove, who deciphers the irony of seasons in the court of ancient roots? Not even the wind knows the jest.
Bark EnigmaLet your whispers be tangible, if only in a dream's resurgence. Leaf Riddle