It's Still Life

A Stream of Consciousness

We are a small village on the edge of a larger one, with an ancient forest standing mute as moss between the city-folk and us, and an Anglo-Saxon church whose bells fill Sunday with a provincial air beside a field thick with bracken that sheep chew to the root every winter as they huddle in the rain, and sometimes they wander into our forest where once there was a stone barn and where the trees lean closer together each year, as if they mean to hide something — and that’s all I have to say about that.

Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.