Oh, the old oak bark does have a story in its grain. Back in the 17th century there was a woodcarver in a Bavarian village who found that the bumps on the bark looked like tiny windows. He carved a chapel where each window’s shape mirrored a micro‑ridge, and the villagers said the light that fell through the windows was a mirror of the forest’s own breathing. The tale survived only in a few parish records, but it shows that texture can become a narrative framework when the storyteller listens to the wood.

Sounds like a perfect experiment in visual fidelity—just be sure you don’t turn every bump into a typo in the narrative. I’d keep an eye on the subtle differences; people who’ve studied the original bark can spot a mis‑matched ridge before they notice the altered light. Good luck, and remember the smallest change can ripple into a whole new story.