Banshee & Brushling
Banshee Banshee
Brushling Brushling
Banshee Banshee
When the wind stirs the leaves, I hear a quiet symphony. Have you ever noticed how the light changes with that hush?
Brushling Brushling
I do notice it, the way the light drifts just enough to warm the bark a little. It feels like a secret the trees keep, and I keep listening, even when I’m not sure if anyone else hears it.