Fern Hollow Collection

I remember a place from years ago; a secret place, in a forbidden dell on private land. A tiny oasis on the windswept grass moorland, tucked in under the rocky cliffs. A beck ran through the tiny wood of no more than maybe 15 trees. Moss lay thick on the banks of the water and the leaves made welcome shade on that hot summer afternoon. I lay in the dappled green hollow with sunlight threading through the leaves, smiling, dreaming, enchanted. There must surely have been faery folk there, creating living plant mandalas for the simple pleasure of it.

 

And as the dusk fell, the amethyst tones of twilight brought mystery to my warm sanctuary. The moonlight cast its silver over the shadows and the stars twinkled prettily on the grey night sky.