eep in the woods, where it is cool and silent, small things grow and live. Sweet things and sour things push up into world, in the mist, after a rain.

Mysteries and memories wait under leaves to be pushed up by this spring's flowers. If you're quiet and patient as you sit there, you may hear memories from squirrels who passed this way last winter, or part of a song from a fairy who lived near by. The damp creeping into your clothes and the bug crawling up your leg is the payment you must make to witness spring magic.