I hear that picture right away. Those trees are the old warlords of the forest, standing tall when everything else shakes. It reminds me of the long nights on the front line, when the world felt like it was tearing itself apart. We get battered, but we keep our heads straight and our feet on the ground. That silence you mentioned? That's the kind of quiet that lets you find your own focus when the storm comes. And just like those trees, we don’t just survive—we grow, no matter how hard the wind hits.