Near a fallen log — with its cracked, brittle bark and hollowed core — blooms a wood violet. Delicate petals may seem out of place amongst gnarled roots, burrowing creatures and decay, but the natural order of things cannot be undone.
There’s beauty in the striving and toil; it’s through ages of adversity that the wood violet can suffer winter’s depth and early autumn death.
LET'S BE SOCIAL
INSTAGRAM
FACEBOOK
PINTEREST
GET IN TOUCH
dominique@woodvioletevents.com