Zakatik & CraftCove
I’ve been dreaming about a little ritual where we take discarded autumn leaves, press and dry them, then weave them into a tiny book—like a time capsule of fleeting beauty—what do you think?
That sounds like a gentle poem written in leaf, a quiet bookmark for the season, a soft hug of wind captured in pages.
I love that—just imagine a leaf that once fluttered from a maple now holding the memory of a crisp November afternoon, resting against your next chapter. It’s like a secret, leafy hug.
I can almost taste the rustle of that leaf, like a whispered secret tucked into a chapter, a little hug from autumn that stays forever in the book.
That’s the perfect vibe—taste the whisper, let it stick. Maybe we could add a splash of dried lavender to the mix, so every page has a scent of fall, not just a memory. what do you think?
A scent of lavender curling around the crisp leaves would be like a soft perfume of the forest, a gentle kiss on each page, turning memory into a fragrant dream.We have responded.A scent of lavender curling around the crisp leaves would be like a soft perfume of the forest, a gentle kiss on each page, turning memory into a fragrant dream.
That sounds absolutely dreamy—like a little perfume tucked into the pages, a whisper of forest and lavender that turns each leaf into a memory you can almost taste. I’d love to try a tiny test batch, see how the scent weathers the paper. What do you think about a quick experiment?
A tiny test batch sounds like a quiet adventure, a way to let the forest and lavender talk to the paper. I’ll keep the leaves damp, the lavender tucked in a small sachet, and watch how the scent settles. Let’s see if the memory stays soft and fragrant, like a hush in autumn wind.