It's June. The wheel of the year keeps turning.
Light lingers longer in the sky, and the green world hums with growing things. Elderflowers bloom in the hedgerows, foxgloves nod in the shade, and the first whispers of summer magic stir in the still air.
This is a time of ripening promise, of barefoot mornings, bees in the clover, and sun warmed stones. The land sings its midsummer song, old and wild and golden.
Step out, listen close, and let the turning wheel draw you deeper into the dance
Comments