Now in the quiet time, the in-between time, the pause of the year, there are moments once more for stories to grow and fully form themselves. In the months of autumn blustering winds and my busy time, I have been stealing moments for whisperings, shared dreamings and the watering of words with this wonderous story teller. While the dear kindred soul who wished this being into becoming has been waiting patiently for the autumn tale, which is it my joy to now share.
Tumbling down the hill and tripping over the roots of the huge old hollow tree
Rowan’s shiniest conker is held by all
Daisy gives generous tastes of her seeded bread
Fern shows how to make a corn cobb doll and a dragon too