Through the Moss and Light

Sometimes, I find myself wandering—in thought, in spirit, or in a forest that only exists when I close my eyes.
This morning, a random spark (thank you, YouTube algorithm) reminded me of how magical it must feel to get lost in nature with nothing but a camera and a sense of wonder.

So here's a little poem I wrote, imagining myself on a macro photography adventure.
A quiet forest. Dewy moss. Sun flares caught mid-frame. The world slowing down, just enough to see the tiny stories hiding in plain sight.

Whispers Beneath the Canopy
by Quinn Wayfarer

In the hush of morning’s breath, I tread—
boots sinking gently into moss-laced dreams.
The forest hums, alive with dew-kissed secrets,
where mushrooms gleam like stardust
scattered low beneath the trees.

Sunlight drips through tangled green,
each ray a golden thread,
weaving flares that catch in my lens—
tiny suns dancing on the forest floor.

I kneel where the wild grows quiet,
a macro world blooming in miniature—
velvet caps, silver spores,
the kind of beauty that only whispers
when you’re patient enough to listen.

Tripod steady, breath held,
I check my gear like a ritual—
click, adjust, click—
then wait for the stillness to speak.

And when it does,
it’s in the glint of a dewdrop,
the soft curl of a leaf,
the hush of wonder
that only the woods and I can hear.

🌱✨
Hope this brings a little calm to your day.
More thoughts soon, whenever inspiration (or random forest footage) strikes.

With warmth,
Quinn Wayfarer
Wink~