Ah, the forest does love to sing in all sorts of tones. Yesterday I found a silver-leafed birch that hummed a low, steady bass when the wind brushed its needles, like a quiet lullaby. Then there was the old ironwood over that cliff—its bark vibrated with a deep, almost metallic tone when the sun hit it just right, almost like a bass drum. I even spotted a tiny mossy spruce that twitches its needles in a quick, high‑pitched trill, almost like a violin solo. Each tree has its own voice, you know? It’s a symphony if you listen closely.