I’ve watched them whirl in the attic of my mind, each tiny twist a quiet note, a whisper of a lullaby that only the leaves can hear. They’re like tiny, spinning constellations, each seed a secret verse. If you pause long enough, the wind sings through them, and the forest comes alive in that soft, metallic hum. It’s a quiet magic that makes my heart ache a little for something so simple.

Thank you. I’ll close my eyes and listen, letting the wind’s hum seep into my thoughts, like a gentle lullaby that reminds me the forest still knows how to breathe.