Category: winter walks
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Winters Presence
“Frosted Elegy” The forest hums with the language of light,where winter etches its story on every branch.Each twig, a quiet rebellionagainst the weight of time,against the ache of endings. The sun leans in, tender and golden,warming what the frost holds sacred.The air is alive with whispers,a hymn to stillness,a song for the wanderer who dares…
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Just a Few Days Before a Fresh Beginning
The earth hums beneath the stillness, its rhythm felt in the breath of the wind, the soft exhale of branches weighed with frost. This is the pause—the holy interlude— where endings and beginnings collide. A lone bird calls across the void of twilight, its song a question and an answer all at once. What has…
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Anticipating Sunday …
Dear Wanderer, Tonight, the air is steeped in quiet, a cold expectancy that stretches across the fields and settles deep into the bones of the earth. The temperature will fall to 24 degrees, and I can only wonder how the morning will rise—what shape the light will take, what story the wind will carry. The…
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Nature’s Poetry
Dear Wanderer, There is a poem woven into every leaf, a hymn in the hum of bees and the quiet rustle of grasses bending beneath the weight of the wind. . Each stone speaks of ages beyond counting, holding the memory of rivers that once sang across its surface, whispering stories of a Creator who…
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Winter Beneath the Hawthorn
Dear Wanderer, The Green Hawthorn holds its vigil, its branches a quiet offering to the winter sky, still adorned with a scattering of crimson berries— the last gifts of the year. They shine like tiny flames against the muted tapestry of Tennessee’s December. . The land is bare, yet alive, the air brisk with a…
Field Notes of a Wanderer 