When we carry stories home, the ordinary turns soft-focus. The lane becomes a corridor of thresholds; the evening, a ceremony of light. We won’t fix everything by noticing, but noticing is how love begins. And love, patient and practical, is wh
“The spirit of a place is a wondrous and elusive thing, you might even call it magic. There are places that captivate us, possess us and linger in our memories. Or perhaps it’s the other way around – as people live and dream and die
“One may feel the ghosts of lost woodland lingering at the edges of farmland and roadsides. Old paths and solitary ancient trees are echoes of what was once forest, still whispering their stories in the autumn winds.” — Witch Countr
“As the last golden light of the sun sets on a late autumn evening, you walk through woodland resplendent in caramel shades. You catch the scent of wood smoke and deep forest smells of moss and damp leaves.” — Kitchen Witch Companio