“You know why trees smell the way they do?” Murphy asked, looking up from her hammering. “Sap?” Logan guessed. “Chlorophyll?” Murphy shook her head. “Stars. Trees breathe in starlight year after year, and it goes deep into their bones. So when you cut a tree open, you smell a hundred years’ worth of light. Ancient starlight that took millions of years to reach earth. That’s why trees smell so beautiful and old.” ~ By Frances O’Roark Dowell in 'Where I’d like to be'
Showing posts with label white. Show all posts
Showing posts with label white. Show all posts
Thursday, 15 January 2015
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Friday, 31 January 2014
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Tuesday, 31 December 2013
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