On the fringes of dawn, when moonlight tiptoes serenely amidst pines, a concourse of soil-bound whispers orchestrates symphonies in silent woodlands. Amid the russet tapestries woven by boughs’ sagacious fingers, secrets unfurl in languages upon which storms conspired.
❦❦ Apsidia's Leafy Conversations – encrypted in unfurling fronds and winged seeds — time-worn echo rings charted upon bark maps.
The yeti crown savors every dewdrop nestled in green tongues; her crown crafted of thistled wisps and the harvested gales from canopies' altars.
We wanderers yearn to decipher the quiver of tides in whispered fables enfolded by elder trunks. Perennial cadences dwell where roots narrate dreams concealed in moss-clad chambers.