Most often they speak according to their kind – the deep rumble of oak, the whisper of the birch, or the singsong chant of the alder.
The evergreen stands of pine have voices sharp as needles.
But the forest can speak as one, when it must. When the trees so choose, they think with one mind. When there is danger, especially, they speak in one voice of a thousand echoes.
I hate it when they do this. For the forest mind is always right, and will hear no argument.

Auteur: Maryrose Wood