In Search of a Stoat Through the Mist of Onlanden
A misty morning in Onlanden, a stoat that got away, and a reed bed full of hidden voices.
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Mornings that started too early, light that lasted ten seconds, and the animals that made both worth it.

A misty morning in Onlanden, a stoat that got away, and a reed bed full of hidden voices.
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Kinderdijk, finally illuminated the way I'd imagined it for a year. Worth every drop of rain.
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The forecast said stay home. I didn't listen β and ended up staring at eight White-tailed Eagles crammed into one tree. π¦
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