Why is it that I find myself wandering these endless paths of green? Is it to escape the noise of the city, or to discover a part of myself lost in the urban shuffle? Trees whisper secrets that only the wind seems to understand. Sometimes, I wish I could sit down with a tree, share a cup of tea, and let it unfold the stories etched in its bark.
A squirrel scampers by, and I wonder what thoughts run through its tiny brain. Perhaps it dreams of acorn empires or long-distance leaps from branch to branch. Do they ponder the mysteries of night and stars like we do?
These woods have a way of making me reflect. I should write it all down. Maybe someday, when the time is right, I’ll craft a tale about a dreamer lost in a whispering conquest of consciousness.
Do you hear the whispers too, or is it just me? Continue the journey
Or perhaps you're curious about the secret lives of trees? Tales from the Bark