A cold wind was blowing out of the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things.

A green light filtered through the foliage, and every time a breeze blew the trees rustled.

The trees surrounding the cemetery on three sides rustled in the rising breeze.

The tree rustled at her with that whisper pine needles make.

The trees rustled, giving off a scent of resin as a breeze came up.

The gust poured down the stream, and the trees rustled under its passing.

Fifteen minutes later the trees rustled as a figure leapt down to the ground not far from where Rainie had been standing.

The dry trees rustled like the voices of gossiping ghosts.

The trees rustled and for a moment, it was very easy to believe she'd just heard someone laugh.

The trees rustled their branches, wondering what was going on, but did not interfere.