Every season has its change.
The task becomes brushing away the layers that were once labored to build. Time never stands still and life is made of moments. It’s the season of late summer when nostalgia creeps in. The season of wind swept golden grass full of ripened seed. The season where the sky is still crisp blue and whimsy clouds glaze over head. It’s the season when the chicories bloom and line the roads in periwinkle, that my heart is reflected.
Witnessing the parade of every flower gone by, having danced in the sun, we lean into a dream in late summer. We are warm, our hearts full of romance and adventure. Though the light is slowingly dwindling. We know that chill and certain death is a marker on the horizon. But for now, our hands wander in pools of water. Our feet land barefoot on the warm earth. Our minds can float away on the melody of birds, the breeze and simple times. It's the later days of summer and soon it will end. The nostalgia arrives like a familiar tale told again and again in a familiar place by a familiar person. Our summer days draw on and we relish, though soon to forget.
May the glimmering days of summer bring you a saturated deep glow of warm, light and reflection. May it be like a pleasant dream for you to enjoy.
Jessie Morrow
Founder, Designer, Maker
Material Wit
