Those trees could talk. They had a voice.
It was a place deep in the shaded woods. Very few people knew about it. Hundred year old pines towered side by side over the ground. On that ground were shadows and outlines of every single living thing that ever tread there. The trees had seen it all. They knew it all. And when the breeze blew lightly, they talked. Shared every great and little thing. If there and free of outside world influences, you could actually hear the telling. It pierced your very soul and lingered there forever. I heard the telling and will carry it with me to the end of my time.
Those trees could talk. They had a voice. Do you hear?
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