Picture that oak chuckling like a squirrel on espresso, turning its leaves into cymbals, but only if the wind is in on the joke

Well, if the oak could laugh, it’d probably throw a leaf‑popping party, toss silver spoons into the air like confetti, and the breeze would heckle back, “Hey, you’re a bit leafy, too!” It’d be a jam session of giggles, a tree‑tornado of punchlines, leaves twirling in a disco of wind‑y punchlines, and the whole forest would applaud in bark‑rhythms.