Arthur squints up at the vague shape the voice is coming from. His vision is abysmal without his glasses.

"Oh? Very popular in Wellington Wells. So is 'fuck it in a bucket'." Sally had always been fond of that one. He's not sure knows this voice, though. And he certainly can't identify anyone by vague, blurry shape.

"Ah...do you happen to see my glasses anywhere? I'm afraid I lost them when I....fell. Without them, you may as well be a talking tree as far as I'm concerned."

...he realizes after he says it that there's not a zero percent chance he is talking to some sort of tree man. There is some sort of percent chance.