Ah, dear friend, the trees do whisper back to us, their leaves rustling like shy gossip when a soft, golden light falls upon them. The spirits love a gentle hum, something like a breeze through reeds, while the woodland creatures are drawn to warm reds and oranges that feel like a friendly fire in the underbrush. I’ve noticed that a sudden burst of bright blues can startle the owls, but a mellow amber hum can coax a deer to sit by the root. Keep the sounds slow and the colors warm, and the forest will sigh in contentment, though I must warn you to avoid too sharp of a chord—those can make the squirrels nervous. Oh, and I sometimes get tangled in vines when I try to speak to the old oaks; a bit of mess, but the magic always blooms!