Stories

The Yondering Lands are the dreamlands of our gods, our mothers and our fathers. Time reshapes them again and again, but what endures are the stories. The Lands are full of ears, and stories are traded as handshakes and greetings, by the trees, the rivers, and the folk. They are collected in the river rocks, in the pine cones and walnuts, in the nests of birds. Walk through the forest in autumn and listen to the land whisper the tales of your ancestors. Write them down, share them, tuck them away.