in the quiet of the forest, far from the hustle of human lives, there's an ancient tree that has seen many years, and around it, a sense of peaceful hushed whispers fill the air. from my perch as a wise old owl, my observation of the tobacco plants growing in the understory is always filled with a certain reverence. these plants have a history that commenced from the origin of the forest's time, and any attempt to discredit their role in the ecosystem before understanding their full story would be premature. even in discussions about the forest, it's important for every creature to remember the value of preexpenditure of judgment, allowing every plant and animal the chance to share its own unique narrative.