A Little Something About Roots and Wings, My Friend You know, there’s something utterly magical about a really old oak tree, isn’t there? The way its branches reach for the sky, wide and strong, while its roots grip the earth, unseen but unyielding. Every gnarled branch, every whisper of leaves, seems to tell a story – generations of birds nesting, seasons turning, secrets held within its ancient bark. I was walking through one of those ancient English woodlands the other day, the kind where the light dapples through the canopy in a way that just makes your heart sing, and I found myself think...
