The Gleewoman's Notes

There are stories on Dartmoor that come up singing through the stones. There is a silence underneath the wind on the tops of the granite to...

The word "cloud" is a poem, just like the clouds themselves are. I think they may be nearly impossible to gaze upon without resort...

These days, I've been starting my morning with a strong cup of tea, a good dose of birdsong, and then an entry from The Book of Symbols ...