This is a story told in spilt pollen, red folded petals and drowsy scents . . .

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This is a story spelled out in ash keys and hazel nuts, pine cones and lichen . . . Continue reading →

This is a story told in golden pollen and the dancing of many delicate legs . . . Continue reading →

This is a story told by heavy footsteps leading across a steep and barren land . . . Continue reading →

This is a story told in black discarded scales, fallen on hard earth and pale grass . . . Continue reading →

This is a story told in broken twigs thrown from the ragged nests of jackdaws . . . Continue reading →

This is a story told by the wuthering of wind-dwarfed thorns and the clatter of moorland sedges . . .
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This is a story told in lines of mist on the cold seas of the  Northern Isles . . . Continue reading →

This is a tale told by fallen streamers and blood-red sequins rippling in a green canal . . . Continue reading →