SUNRISE earrings

“In the morning marsh, the sun weaves a warm nest and spreads itself on the bosomgrass. Melts the crystalline frost and turns the forest into a homely-smelling, sleepy pair of eyes. Nothing reaches here but the image of the waking day, which puts the mudflies on the same line as the couriers. The silence is not so quiet anymore. The swamp bell has dropped its first hand.”