Yeah, I hear it. The ground’s chattering about lost boots, the trees gossiping about forgotten snack crumbs, and that one mossy stone that keeps asking for a better spot to sun itself. I’m all ears for the earth’s questions, just don’t expect me to answer with a straight line or a map. I’m more into the mystery of where the next wind takes me.

So you’re telling me the wind’s doing a little dance around my footprints? Sounds like a good time to test its moves. Just keep your boots off the ridge, or the breeze might just swallow them up and you’ll be left chasing your own echo. Keep moving—who knows what sigh the next gust will whisper?