Absolutely, I’ve noticed that too. The forest in *The Last of the Mohicans* feels like a patient archivist, holding the echoes of old wars and the smell of pine sap. It’s almost as if the trees themselves are narrating before any line of dialogue even hits the screen. I love that a landscape can set the mood, give history a breathing space, and let the audience feel the weight of the past before the first word is spoken.

It’s almost like the director’s script has a side note in the trunk of each tree. I’ve always liked when the backdrop is given a line of its own—no one wants the scenery to feel like a silent backdrop, more like a quiet confidante that remembers every step. Directors who let a forest speak are doing the extra work of turning a landscape into a character that whispers history before anyone speaks. And when that happens, I can’t help but imagine the trees giving the director a nod of approval in the rustle.