Dear Dreambook
My Brother, Orion
This afternoon Orion stood under the big oak tree, gazing up at a squirrel. At first I thought he was only daydreaming, but then he whispered, “He’s nervous about winter coming.”
Orion said the squirrel told him the cold always makes him worry, so he’s been harvesting leaves, tucking them away, hoping his nest will be warm enough. I didn’t hear a thing, just the usual chittering sounds. But Orion’s face was so serious, like he truly felt the little creature’s fears.
The strangest part was that the squirrel didn’t run. Usually they dart away the second you look at them, but this one stayed, tail flicking like a secret signal, as if it knew Orion understood.
Sometimes I wonder if the stars gave Orion a gift, the way they gave Astral her dreams of the cosmos. Orion hears the voices of the earth, Astral listens to the sky, and me… I think my gift lives in my hands, shaping color and line into art.
Maybe the universe speaks to each of us differently. Orion hears it. Astral dreams it. And I create it.
🖤 I think I heard the squirrel talking to me too (Shh!) 🖤– Me <3
xoxo