I allow myself the luxury of listening to the sound of the wind stirring through the treetops. When the wind blows each tree has its own unique sound. I notice how different the deep rustle of the oak tree sounds to the gentle soughing of a conifer, or the agitated shaking of a hawthorn.
On a blustery day, you can listen to the way the wind moves through the wood, watching the trees bend and wave as it comes towards you, with the trees that don't bend creaking as the whole trunk sways. There is always music in the trees, but our hearts and minds must be quiet to hear it.