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.
“Let’s be together, Mama”. “Hold on, Bobbin”. “I just wanted to tell you that I wish you would read me a story”. “Bobby, I just read you a story”. “Yeah, I know. But I wish you would read me another one”.
A few months ago, I wrote a Tiny Tale for Robin about his toadstool elf, Aggie, called Aggie in the Berry Patch.
“Tiny Tales are not just for big boys, you know”, Robin informed me after last week’s math story was complete, “Can I have a Tiny Tale, too?” And those dark-as-coal eyes looked up at me and I said, “Okay, Bobbin, it’s your turn next”. So, this week is a Tinier Tale, just the right sizeContinue reading “Tinier Tales – Aggie in the Berry Patch (days of the week)”
I have this daydream. I think I want to make it come true. I dream of an enchanted garden full of lavender and ferns and teeny houses made of wood. I dream of fairy lights and mushrooms and benches made just the right height for little children.
When I was pregnant with Cohen, I used to tell him stories. I would rest a hand on the curve of his tiny back beneath my skin, close my eyes and lower my voice almost to a whisper. I would send feelings of utter peace through my blood, from my heart to his.
My whole journey to this moment began with one little boy. My son, Cohen, is 7 years old (2019). He has ADHD, Autism, a tic disorder and Chronic Pain. He is to be tested for Dyslexia and for Failure to Thrive.
Adam and Merribelle Dewfeather live together at Lavender cottage with their four children: Pennywhistle, Linsong, Hyacinth and Snowdrop. The cottage has a cobbled path leading through the swaying lavender to a white gate and a table, where elves come to trade.
As the sun slipped silently below the horizon, the sunset elves climbed down from the clouds with their watercolour paintboxes and began to work. First, a little orange stripe, then a puddle of pink. Maybe a little purple tonight, and ultramarine blue brushed lightly across the underside of the clouds. Turquoise brush dipped into theContinue reading “Small World Stories – Sunset Elves”