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Welcome, Kindred Spirit

Welcome to Field of Foxes—a quiet corner of the world where wildflowers bloom, stories linger like woodsmoke, and life moves at the pace of a drifting cloud.

Here, we honor the beauty in stillness, the charm of handmade things, and the magic found in meadows, moss, and morning light.

Whether you’ve wandered in from a forest path or stumbled in with a warm cup in hand, you’re among friends. Stay as long as you like—there’s tea on the stove, poems in the drawer, and soft places to rest your heart.

From the Fox’s Journal

The days have softened into May, and the fields are stitched with wildflowers again—tiny violets, buttercups, and the first clover, bowing low to the morning light. I’ve been rising with the sun, letting the kettle speak first, and taking slow walks past the hedge where the foxes sometimes pass.

There’s something sacred in this quiet routine. I’ve begun stitching again—small linen scraps with thread the color of dried roses. Some days I press flowers in my old notebooks; other days I simply sit and let the wind tell its stories. The garden is waking gently, and I’ve planted chamomile, thyme, and calendula near the stone wall.

I hope, wherever you are, you’ve found a moment to be still and present—whether it’s with a cup of something warm or your hands deep in the earth.

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Our Cottage Among the Wildflowers

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