I’m taking a little pause here with my forest stories. Summer takes its toll, and I find myself creatively parched. I’m longing for autumn now, for its moody days filled with rain and fog, and a general feeling of the world slowing back down. I just know my soul will perk back up once those days come around again.

In the meantime, you can still find me popping up on Notes, sharing little captures of the forest and offering a moment or two for a calm breath.

I also have a few things I’ve been quietly working on.

A 2027 calendar will be coming soon. I love putting these together each year. And this time, I might actually create two. Some ideas are floating around, so we’ll see.

I’ve also finally begun working on a book. Something I’ve thought about for years, but always felt so overwhelmed by. I’m taking my time with this project and creating something I can truly be proud of, but I am very excited as I find my footing in this process.

Thank you all so much for wandering the forest with me, whether you’re new here or have been here through the years. Thank you for reading my words, for appreciating the trees and plants and quiet forest moments I’m able to share with you. I know this summer has been so hard on so many, and I am sending all my love to you, hoping you can survive the rest of it. And that we all reach the relief of cooler days very soon.

Until next time,

♡ Whitney

Dim light greets from within the forest depths, while green glows softly in the stillness.

And a mid-summer rain, warmly welcomed, soaks into parched earth, watering root and leaf and soil.

Petrichor hangs heavy in the air. It is an air of substance, of weight, to be breathed and to be felt.

Rain returns a feeling of life to tired plants, restoring, nourishing. Leaves become a little greener, long stems stand a little taller, wildflowers dip and sway with a little more colour.

And through it all, a scent, a sound, a feeling. A calmness needed, a long exhale, a lightness missed.

Drips and drops echo through the canopy, muting the world outside the forest. There is only this. This is all that’s needed.

Damp ground softens beneath wandering feet. Fingers graze through the foliage, catching droplets as they fall. Breaths deep and even and full.

A moment of connection, between human heart and forest soul. Gratitude. Reverence. A love of all things green and growing on this earth.

Until next we meet in the forest,

♡ Whitney

Photographs and stories on From the Forest are crafted with love and care, human-made, me-made, no AI. Ever. ♡

The valley rests in shadow, sky a deep, endless blue.

Deep breaths, shoulders fall. The early birds sing.

And the forest wakes on a yawn and gentle stretch.

There’s a stillness. A hush. Softness clings to the edges.

Dawn, an in between. Not night, yet not day. Fleeting and brief.

To be awake, to witness, what many do not, tucked away in their beds.

Magic.

Dew caught in the dim light. A glittering blanket rests upon green leaves, drops onto white petals, adorns green stalks in fairy lights.

Moments pass. The sun slowly rises. Rises. Rises.

Above the mountain’s peak, it crests.

Beams of golden yellow filter through trees, through leaf and branch. Cascading.

Flower’s edges limned in light. Leaves gilded and glittering.

The forest changes quickly now, from dimness to light.

The meadow sits softly aglow as warmth chases away dawn’s chill.

Dew drops dry as summer’s breeze begins to whisper, setting the grasses to sway and swish.

The ethereal quiet of early morning fades, giving way to daytime’s hum.

See you next time,

♡ Whitney