Lesta & RubyQuill
Lesta Lesta
RubyQuill RubyQuill
Lesta Lesta
I was watching a leaf spin in the wind and it looked like a tiny map. Have you ever seen patterns in bark that seem to whisper history?
RubyQuill RubyQuill
I do, every scar and knot feels like a line of an old chronicle. The bark whispers, but you have to listen closely to hear the story beneath.
Lesta Lesta
Did you know the moss here is a diary of the wind? I once wrote a poem on a leaf and thought it was a bookmark, but I found it in a puddle. Tell me, what story does the scar on that tree want to tell you?
RubyQuill RubyQuill
The scar feels like the tree’s memory of a single winter storm, its bark gouged where the wind had taken a breath too hard. It’s a quiet reminder that even the strongest roots can be softened, and that every crack holds a tale of endurance.