The Bramblehat of Fernhollow surfaced at the turn of autumn, rising from a slim glass bottle beneath a wide brim of weathered bark, hung heavy with a great brown pinecone, amethyst beads, and a spray of dried lavender caught mid-bloom. A fistful of wild grass shoots skyward from its crown like sparks thrown from a small green fire, while curling fern fronds unfurl at each ear as if listening for rain. Below the brim, two wide googly eyes and a pinecone mouth hold a permanent look of startled wonder, a dark wisp of moss trailing like an untamed beard. He wears his oddments — a purple button, a dull brass ring — the way an old traveler wears souvenirs from every road walked. He is the bramblehat of the hollow, reminding us that the wildest-looking things often carry the gentlest hearts.
The Bramblehat of Fernhollow surfaced at the turn of autumn, rising from a slim glass bottle beneath a wide brim of weathered bark, hung heavy with a great brown pinecone, amethyst beads, and a spray of dried lavender caught mid-bloom. A fistful of wild grass shoots skyward from its crown like sparks thrown from a small green fire, while curling fern fronds unfurl at each ear as if listening for rain. Below the brim, two wide googly eyes and a pinecone mouth hold a permanent look of startled wonder, a dark wisp of moss trailing like an untamed beard. He wears his oddments — a purple button, a dull brass ring — the way an old traveler wears souvenirs from every road walked. He is the bramblehat of the hollow, reminding us that the wildest-looking things often carry the gentlest hearts.