Speaker 1: Hey, thanks for being a part of the conversation. This
is Forest Stories. I am the Poet in the Forest,
a children's series that I pinned out in the nineteen nineties. Now,
none of it would be possible if it wasn't for
this forest right here in South Arlotte, North Carolina. I
talk about it so much that I thought maybe it's
time that you get to know what has inspired me
for thirty years. Thanks for being a part of the conversation.
Welcome back to the forest. Our second snowfall of the season. Beautiful,
always so peaceful. Here in the South, the snow falls
at a different pace than it did in a state
of Montana. Up there, it felt like it was ice
crystals more than just flakes, just freely falling. It's almost
like a collection of butterflies, white butterflies, all gathering in
one place. Just so smooth, so beautiful, so peaceful. And
what's interesting about it being in this forest when it
snows is that it becomes so silent. You can hear
the warmth in the air as it turns many of
these snowflakes back into water, and you can hear that
trickle on the ground. I don't see any deer I
don't see any squirrels running around. I don't see any
birds in the sky. I just see white snowflakes, our
second this season, after we went three seasons without any
white snowflakes. Beautiful. It smells so fresh, It's so elegant.
In a world that is so dirty, This white represents
so much purity, innocence, and even an opportunity to step
into a brand new beginning, our second snowfall of the season.
The forest is embracing it. The little tree leaves that
are still left around are just sitting there, hugging onto
it in a way that says, wow, I got too
old a flying snowflake. Now I'm gonna set it free
in the form of water to reach my roots. He
thanks for being a part of the conversation.