This I call the Root-Tongue.
I get the babbling brook that goes on and on, the summer wind that whispers sweet nothings, and the cicada that cries winter is coming. I just wish I could understand the birds 🦅.
I get the babbling brook that goes on and on, the summer wind that whispers sweet nothings, and the cicada that cries winter is coming. I just wish I could understand the birds 🦅.