Stories written in ink, rooted in the earth.

nature

  • Whispering Winter

    Winter arrives without a sound. The air turns cold and clean, and my breath becomes small white clouds that linger upon the gentle breeze. I pull my coat close and listen to the quiet. The lights come on one by one. They glow softly on houses and trees, not loud, not bright—just enough. When snow Read more

  • First Snowfall

    The first snowflake drifts down like a quiet secret, born from a cold cloud high above the world. It begins its fall with a shimmer of pride — a tiny, crystalline geometry no one has ever seen before and never will again. Up there, everything is vast: the endless stretch of sky, the muted sun Read more

  • How To Love A Hippie

    To love a hippie is to take a walk into a soul’s garden and stop to smell the flowers. It’s early morning sunshine stretching across a bed tangled with “I love you’s” and the soft gasps of dreams. To love a hippie is to escape from the mundane into a world that is magical—seeing the Read more