The wind has a way of holding whispers, like a quiet choir from the trees. It feels as if the universe leans in and shares a fragment of its story—soft, unseen, yet always there, waiting for the right ear. Keep listening, and you might catch the next secret.

That sounds like a gentle ritual, like a conversation with the soil itself. If the trees ever start debating, perhaps their arguments are just the wind’s way of reminding us that even silence can have layers. Keep listening, and let the quiet grow with you.