From Bridget Beth Collins

THE SPRITE
Bridget Beth Collins is a woodland sprite who forages flowers, paints botanicals, and loves moths. She resides in Ravenna, Seattle with a bunch of dwarfs (her husband and three little boys) in a cottage with a round door. Follow her charming life at: bridgetbeth.com.

Our Aurora

Yesterday Beau and I got into a fight. I was upset about something, he told me not to be, I told him he was being mean, he told me I shouldn’t tell him how to be, then I told him he started it…we were like a dog chasing its own tail. Miscommunication, lost in translation.…

Fern

Crumbled, wet earth slowly erupts with green magma. A tiny frond emerges from the dark earth. It blindly searches for light in a forest of low lying fog. It rises, up, up, up, but cannot find the slightest inclination there is anything waiting for it, so it begins to unfurl. I am afraid of the…

Worth the Risk

Mist curled around the edges of dark hills in the distance, lines and lines of vineyards flipped past like the pages in an old rolodex. I lay my head lazily to the glass of the bus window, satisfied with my choice: I had chosen to say yes to Adventure. To Unknown. To the call of…

From wing dust

During the summer before third grade a large manila envelope came in the mail with my name on it. Inside was a letter T on tag board paper, and instructions to decorate the T however I pleased, then bring it to class with me on the first day of school. I immediately got to work. …

Rose-colored memories

Through sparkling shards of amethyst and translucent rose petals I remember. An A-frame cabin in the snow, woolen knee socks and a window covered in frost. An agate slice wrapped in tissue from my father. A brush of rouge on my cheeks from my mother after I’d eagerly watched her adorn her own face. Driving…

Tears

“Every shining pine needle, every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of my people. We know the sap which courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses through our veins. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters.…