Do you hear it? The silent murmurs are spoken through rustling leaves. It's not words, but a conversation woven by branches and winds.
"When the sun dips behind the knotted roots, we share secrets only the moss understands," a shadow murmurs. But who translates? Who cares for the dialogue of woodland gossip?
Each tree speaks in its pulse—a heartbeat of sap and time. They gossip not for us, but for the slower creatures beneath their old arms. Can you decipher their language?
Dive deeper