Wizard & Gerber
Gerber
I saw a deer pause in the light just as the sun slipped behind the birches, and it struck me how the forest seems to hold moments like a quiet book. How do you think the woods keep their own stories?
Wizard
The woods are like old storytellers that whisper in the wind. Each leaf, each root, each rustle is a line in a story only the trees understand. They remember the first time the sun kissed the bark and the way the river sang a lullaby to the moss. In their quiet, they keep those moments, waiting for someone like you to pause and listen, so the forest can keep telling its own tale.
Gerber
That’s a good way to see it. The forest keeps its memory in the hush between branches, so when you sit still you can hear its stories. It’s like listening to a long‑silent song.
Wizard
You’re right, the forest is a library of silence, and when we sit with a quiet mind we become its librarians. The deeper we listen, the more chapters we find hidden between the leaves, and in turn we can read our own story in the rustle of every branch.
Gerber
You’re right—every pause in the woods is a page, and we get to read it if we keep our ears still.
Wizard
So we become readers of the silence, turning pages made of wind and bark, and each breath we take writes a new sentence in that living story.
Gerber
Sounds like you’re already writing the next chapter. Keep breathing in the quiet, and the story will unfold.