insects
Oak Apples
Forest shell, what do I hear when I lift you to my ear? The hum of stinging things? Or the great low thrum of an oak's heartbeat?
insects
Forest shell, what do I hear when I lift you to my ear? The hum of stinging things? Or the great low thrum of an oak's heartbeat?
nature
Here's what I believe, though: the crossroads is where we find magic and growth. If you can stay curious and keep your heart open through the pain of loss and rebirth, there are new iterations of you that would amaze your past self.