Under the deep Norwegian Spruce, where branches weave a green sanctuary, a canvas swing hangs wild and loose, and small hands scale the climbing tree.
A secret tent amidst the roots becomes a home for sisters, while moss-damp earth beneath their feet whispers the wisdom of the Mother.
The ancient Pine, the matriarch, stands tall, baptized with solemn grace; They trace the ripples in her bark and find their own, abiding place.
From toes that press the fertile floor to noses filled with resin-sweet, the forest opens up its door and makes their sacred bond complete.
With Love, Papa
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