One of the hardest things for me, as a writer, is to compose a description. I'd like it to be one that draws the reader in, like they see it, smell it, feel it, hear it. It's not enough to simply say, "The trees were green and the air smelled like pine.
It's a start. A tree can be described as majestic, Douglas Fir, sentries of the forest, etc. They can't speak, can they? Well, yes, they can. They can whisper, howl, creak, snap, groan, weep. There branches can rustle, sweep, spray pine needles, drop cones, harbor creatures, etc.
Light can dapple and dance, moonlight can peek between branches, lead the way, illuminate red eyes in it's glow.
Tree surroundings can smell like almost anything you can imagine. The scent of pine needles, putrid smells of dead creatures, urine, excrement, fish, mold, moss, dirt.
Before you write a scene make a list of possible sensory information. You don't have to use them all, but you'll be proud of what you come up with.
Here's an excerpt from my book:
In the woodlands east of Portland Oregon, two boys and a dog named Bridget journeyed through the familiar forest in search of a fresh fishing hole. The sun shone through the trees in splotches of dappling light that played and danced with the movement of limbs from trees so thick, it was a wonder any light penetrated to the ground. It did little to dry the carpet of soggy pine needles that sloshed beneath their feet, emitting strong pungent orders of mildew and moss with every step.
Okay, it needs work, but you get the idea