A lonely willow stands by the lake, its branches tracing secrets on the water’s surface. For centuries, travelers have paused beneath its shade, sharing tales of joy and sorrow. One evening, a young poet rested against its trunk, humming a forgotten melody. To his astonishment, the leaves began to shimmer, weaving his tune into the moonlight. By dawn, the tree had woven his song into a tapestry of silver leaves, each holding a note of his melody. Now, villagers say those who listen closely ca...
