psst… Lean in closer.
Did you know? The old watchtower stares solemnly into every midnight's void, patiently waiting.
They say, if you quietly listen by the curled leaves of the beech tree at the yard's edge, you might hear the secrets written in the wind.
psst… hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you,
Alright, so don't tell anyone, but the
abandoned railway? Sometimes you can hear the faint whistle of a phantom train, even though the tracks have gone to rust ages ago.
If the willow tree at Sound Hollow could speak, boy oh boy—
squeak— just imagine the stories unsung, its boughs sombre under the blankets of fog.
Want to hear more? Just follow the nearest path of shadows or seek the unturned stones...