Come with me into the woods

‘Come with me into the woods where spring/ is/ advancing, as it does, no matter what.’ – Mary Oliver Come with me into the woods. It’s quiet there, except for the chattering song of birds, and the swishing of emerging leaves. You can hear your own calm footfalls on the path, mixing with jumbled half

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for the love of magnolia

Our house has a magnolia tree in its garden. I didn’t know it at first- we moved here in November, the garden cold and sleeping. One March morning, bleary-eyed, pulling up the kitchen blind, I discovered a cascade of delicate pink petals fluttering against a blue sky. I gave an involuntary gasp, my heart lifted

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