The birds are singing a new song. It’s strange, but pleasing to my ears. The birds are singing a new song. It’s loud, yet brings a calmness to my soul. Editor: Erynn Crittenden

Spring Fresh daffodils rise as the earth drinks up the rain with Spring’s arrival. Summer The sun’s rays beat down. Humidity sticks to skin. Summer’s in full swing. Fall The trees are lit up with crisp golds and reds so bright as Autumn creeps in. Winter Blankets of soft snow gently cover the cold streets ...

If you’ve ever been to Europe, you might have heard of a remote village called Oestravale. In this place, renowned for being “The Eternal Spring,” flowers bloom brighter than anywhere else. Despite its Swiss Alps setting, snow hasn’t descended for centuries, and songbirds serenade the area day and night. Oestravale decorated their buildings with three ...

Gray clouds covered the evening sky. It had been raining since noon, and several streets were already flooded. Outside a tall skyscraper, a woman with dark hair and a trench coat stood on the sidewalk. She opened a blue umbrella and went left. Rain splashed everywhere, but she didn’t care if it entered her boots. ...

The dying sun and crisp air cast an orange glow upon the trees whose limbs turn bare, as they come apart with the fall breeze.   Stores are now filled with apple cider and cozy eats. Autumn is here and summer is chilled. Kids pick out their costumes for tricks and treats.   The fall ...

I choose to believe  that there is more to life than heartache and grief. I have endured much hardship. Still, I wake to watch the sun rise above the mountain peak. I feel the salt of the ocean waves, catch the scent of something sweet, then let the soft flavors melt on my tongue. I ...

One May morning, on the damp ground of a distant woodland, nine cream-colored blossoms bloomed from an emerald, green plant with fresh dew sprinkled over as if someone had cried upon them. Each blossom was the shape of a small bell that drooped from its stems and gave the appearance of modest nuns dressed in ...

Beside the brilliant babbling brook, bees begin their dayFlitting between the fragrant flowers, they fertilize awayGently generating the next generation, they give it all they’ve gotEagerly expecting the Earth’s esteem, they escape with the lotTo help the honey in their hive and hear what others have seenThese thrifty, tiny insects work tirelessly for their queen!And ...

They have killed a squirrel before. Is it in the enchanted woods, or the forested hills? The pine trees host every creature desperately trying to live, eat, hide, take shelter. Only for them to repeat their routine in their habitat. Both animals and hunters made of human flesh kill the squirrels. A cycle of life ...

Why is the crowCarrying such a large twig?It is not nest building time. Maybe a strengthening rod,To help hold the new chicksIn their cozy cradles? Or a protection stickTo help ward offThe feral predators? Whatever the reason,His tenacious flightIs a weighty mission! Editor: Erynn Crittenden