One of my favorite memories from growing up in the North woods is standing in the middle of the forest, watching big fluffy snowflakes fall where the only sound was a gentle breeze blowing through the pines.
It’s the closest thing I can relate to experiencing “magic”.
One of my favorite memories from growing up in the North woods is standing in the middle of the forest, watching big fluffy snowflakes fall where the only sound was a gentle breeze blowing through the pines.
It’s the closest thing I can relate to experiencing “magic”.