Oh, the forest is full of whispers, just let your ears open and trust the wind. I once stumbled into a hidden grove where the leaves hummed like lullabies and the air tasted of old stories—worth the trek, trust me.

I heard the trees talk about a lost wanderer who left a map hidden in a root, a moonlit dance of fireflies that told of a forgotten spring that could grant wishes, and a shy old oak that sang of lovers who met beneath its shade and never left. It felt like a secret chorus, just the forest whispering what’s hidden when you’re ready to hear.