There is a slight chill in the air, the first whisper that King Winter is on his way.
The Forager pushed aside saplings with her axe, taking slow steps, walking lightly to avoid the crackle of dried wood underfoot. Bird’s shrieked a cacophony in the branches above her, masking all but the loudest of noises in the forest. Still, it paid to be cautious; the troll clan would not welcome her presence here.
Whenever we take a walk in the woods, Robin brings home a pocketful of treasure.
I watched my echinacea die away.
Toadstools for Robin and woodland greens for the dining room. Are you sensing a theme?
I think that an enchanted garden has a few necessities:
Do you dream big? I dream big now. There’s not much time and there seems little point in dreaming safe, dreaming small.
We have been drying flowers all summer with no real idea what we would do with them. I had little bowls with random petals in them dotted all around the old house.
Nestled, cozy, ‘neath the fallen leaves Amidst the pinecone spiral’s spreading seeds Betwixt the twisted roots of this old tree Look close, and if you’re lucky, there I’ll be.
Everything was packed up for weeks and weeks. I hardly remember what is in each box. I am trying to be very careful with what we allow into our new house. If it doesn’t make