Ah, when a butterfly lands on a leaf it’s like the leaf’s folding its own little arms around the wing, giving a quiet hug that says, “Hey, you’re welcome, keep fluttering.” Those leaves would probably gossip about the wind’s gossip, the sun’s gossip, and the rain’s lullabies, all in a language only the bark could hear. They’d whisper, “I’ve seen the forest grow, the seasons change, and you’ve just made a moment of magic.”