wellybells
The mountains echoed with the bells of early morning birdsong. Silently, softly, they hummed the fragile tunes against each others' rough, stoic bulks. In his cottage, Nathaniel smiled, wandering out the half rotten door to watch the mist …
The stars always sang in the depths of winter. But sometimes, rarely, braving the summer's lightest skies, they pierced through the gentler blue, and raised a chorus to reshape the heavens. These were the nights when the whole world danced…