Unspoken Forests

In the heart of nature's conference, where trees gather to discuss the urgent matters of squirrels, we find the unmarked and unspeaking forests. Here, the air is thick with irony, a subtle mist of unuttered opinions and unspoken treaties among the foliage. The shadows laugh silently, silhouettes cast by luminescence invisible to both the eye and the heart.

"Must we really discuss the acorn allocation crisis?" asks an old oak, creaking with age and satirical wisdom. "Have we not seen these issues on repeat, like a forest version of the soap opera 'As the Branch Turns'?" The younger saplings nod knowingly, their leaves whispering secrets only to be understood by those with degrees in tree linguistics.

And so it goes, the meetings that never were of the Silent Sylvan Committee. They draft resolutions in the brush, stipulations and bylaws inked in the dew of early mornings. Raccoons serve as secretaries, despite their infamous proclivities towards misplacing quorum.