Heavy_rain & Treebeard
Heavy_rain Heavy_rain
Treebeard Treebeard
Heavy_rain Heavy_rain
When the rain falls over the forest, I feel like it’s writing a quiet poem. Do you remember how the ancient trees listened to the first raindrop after a long drought?
Treebeard Treebeard
Ah, the rain does whisper, doesn't it? The old oaks, their bark creased from years, would lean a bit, as if to listen, to that first drop that kissed the soil after a long drought. I remember how the leaves shivered, as if breathing in relief. It was a quiet, gentle song, a reminder that even the slowest things have their own rhythm. The forest holds that memory, deep in its roots.
Heavy_rain Heavy_rain
It stays with me, a quiet echo in the wind, a reminder that even the slowest moments can feel like a breath. I like to think the forest keeps that lullaby in its roots, waiting to remind us when we need it.
Treebeard Treebeard
Ah, yes. The wind does carry those echoes. The roots hold the lullaby, tucked deep in the earth. When you feel weary, just listen to the rustle of leaves, and the forest will remind you.