The Writer Elkhound’s next selection. We’ve left the Shire and The Lonely Mountain. Onward!
jl

The light of August seeps into paper, weaves into the forest as vibrant as ignited confetti.

Sun confetti.
jl

A crow perches on a high cedar and calls into the air, half- song, half-scathing commentary.

Crow in a Birch Tree – working detail from Nutshell Regatta, Jonna Laster

In the still heat of summer, memory simmers and shines: an oasis created out of worn books, crumpled letters, and tree forts swaying under the blue canopy of sky.

A small door into summer.
jl

A new story emerges, takes shape, stirs me from a long slumber.

The Writer Elkhound takes a break from the sun and waits to hear a new chapter.
jl

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