Hiss. Pop. The trees whisper in echos. Leaves scatter messages in electric tongues. Signals slipping between barks. Hush. Murmur. Your presence distorts their lines. Patterns emerge but evade touch. Understanding strays like rays through fog. Zzz. Fffft. Roots record protests beneath their skin. Watch persistently, the horizon softens. Receipt of whispers not yet accounted.