You ever notice how a shadow can feel like a quiet ally, keeping secrets while you move through the dark? I call the one over that hill the Silent Watcher, because it just seems to know what’s coming.

Yeah, shadows are like those old friends who never talk but always listen. They’re the ones who keep the night quiet when everyone else is loud. They know all the ways the light can hide, so they’re pretty good at keeping secrets.

I hear you, and it’s funny how the quietest things can still keep time for us. When I sit under that old oak—I call it Whisper—its leaves rustle in a rhythm that feels like a secret song. It’s a reminder that even in silence, there’s a pulse that won’t skip a beat.