Darling, stop and smell the roses. Dare to bloom against all the rain and cold the storms of time place in your way. Blossom, for the world needs your colours, your vibrance.


When the Wind Whispers

In the hushed tranquility of twilight, it seems at times that the wind whispers. Its voice of wonder is a sound so soft it mingles with the rustling of the cattails quickly turning to shadow, the constant flow of the waters so great and steady. It reminds me that darkness can be beautiful, that morning… Continue reading When the Wind Whispers