I used to dream of forests, asleep and awake. Dense groves of ancient giants, gilded domes of oak and maple, stands of slender aspens, bearing silent witness, swaying to a breath. Wild, hidden places where life feels more alive, at once intense and restorative. Where my outline might be found within a profusion of stalks,…Read more Pale Forest
forest
When You’re Home
There is a patch of forest that stays with me. It wafts, it waits, it lingers, it lurks somewhere in my mind, behind my eyes, in my nostrils, under my fingertips—in my soul. A place I can always come back to, unchanged. The gate is always open. Whenever I enter it gathers me up, suffuses…Read more When You’re Home