The Market Beneath the Ferns

Somewhere beneath the ferns, when the rain falls just right, a market appears. No signs. No roads. Just crooked lanterns, bottled thunder, jars of moonlight, a compass that points toward dessert, and one deeply unreasonable hedgehog with very firm opinions about spoons. This one is lighter than some of our usual trips into the woods. A little more fiddle. A little more laughter. A few more questionable purchases. We only meant to have a look. That was several stalls ago. Come wander with us through **The Market Beneath the Ferns**. 🌿✨ From our strange little corner of the woods, *Into Wandering Wilds* 🌲❤️