Birch leaves and twigs fill the frame, most out of focus but a few crisp. The dappled light and lively angles of the leaves suggest a breeze that moves through the small tree.

Hello there fellow wanderer, you’ve found the quiet internet-grove of C.S. Mills. I’m a writer working with land, myth and the imagination.

Each month I send out a letter by email called Polylith, which you can (and should!) subscribe to. I also make a paper zine called Drift Body.