Pine trees define childhood for me: when other children made snow forts in winter, we made pine straw forts in summer. We chipped off pieces of bark for play money; we braided green pine needles and collected perfect pine cones. They are prickly and harbor little itchy bugs and have a tendency to snap in two under the weight of heavy coatings of ice in the South’s frequent ice storms, but they’re tall and they grow fast, and they’re the first trees to come back when land has been cleared. I could go on . . .

Old stone walls are fascinating to me. Not sure what the story is here–but I totally get ancient people’s obsession with stone monuments. Stone endures, it absorbs warmth and radiates it back. Very comforting, and magical. This is my interpretation of a magical moment.

There was a glimmer of an idea here, but it didn’t go exactly the way I expected.

Today’s #Storystorm prompt had to do with adding one more, so here is big sister adding little brother to the group.

This #Storystorm idea was about one of my grandcats, who likes to capture Christmas ornaments and hide them. Not wanting to do a Christmas-themed sketch, I thought about what would happen if he tried to capture another spherical object–one that might be a little too much for him.