whimsical storytelling

Contes capturés

View

Guardian of Changing Times

par Bill Tiepelman

Guardian of Changing Times

The Dragonfly’s New Year’s Resolution It was December 31st, and deep within the forest, where the trees whispered secrets and the rivers chuckled like gossipy grandmothers, a dragonfly sat pondering its year. This wasn’t just any dragonfly. Oh no, this was **Donovan**, a dragonfly with iridescent wings that shimmered with the hues of all four seasons. Donovan was the kind of dragonfly who’d seen it all: frosty mornings, rainy afternoons, sultry summer nights, and far too many pumpkin spice latte cups discarded by hikers. “Another year gone,” Donovan sighed, sipping nectar from a tiny mug. (It wasn’t actually a mug—it was a dew-covered acorn cap, but a dragonfly’s imagination is a powerful thing.) “What have I accomplished? Did I grow as a dragonfly? Did I live my truth? Did I eat too many mosquitoes? Probably. But regrets are unbecoming of my species.” Despite his musings, Donovan was feeling the same weight many adults do as the calendar threatened to flip: the crushing existential dread of **New Year’s resolutions.** The Resolution Brainstorm “Okay, Donovan,” he muttered to himself, “Let’s get serious. If humans can convince themselves they’ll ‘go to the gym’ or ‘stop binge-watching shows they’ve already seen,’ then I can set my own goals.” He grabbed a leaf, dipped a twig into some mud, and began to write. Fly more. “I spent way too much time resting on branches this year. I’ll zig-zag more dramatically in 2024!” Cut back on snacking. “Fewer mosquitoes, more… uh… smaller mosquitoes?” Learn a new skill. “Like hovering upside down? Or synchronized flying? The other dragonflies would LOVE that!” Find love. Donovan paused, blushing slightly. “Okay, maybe I’ll just try not to get ghosted by another mayfly.” As the list grew, Donovan began to feel something unfamiliar: hope. Sure, his resolutions sounded silly, but wasn’t that the point? Life didn’t have to be a grand spectacle—it just had to be his own little adventure. The New Year’s Eve Celebration That evening, the forest buzzed with excitement. Animals of all shapes and sizes had gathered by the glimmering pond for the annual **New Year’s Bash.** A family of raccoons hosted, naturally, because raccoons know how to throw a party. Fireflies provided lighting, owls DJ’d with their soothing hoots, and the frogs? Oh, the frogs croaked in harmony like a drunken karaoke choir. Donovan showed up wearing his finest sheen of dew, his wings catching the glow of the fireflies. “New Year, new me,” he whispered as he tried to mingle. He chatted with a squirrel who couldn’t stop nervously nibbling on an acorn, complimented a ladybug on her perfectly symmetrical spots, and even exchanged awkward pleasantries with an intimidatingly large beetle who claimed to “invest in aphid futures.” When midnight approached, the entire forest gathered near the pond. A wise old turtle climbed onto a mossy rock, clearing his throat to deliver the annual countdown speech. Reflections and Revelations “Another year comes to a close,” the turtle began, his voice slow and steady. “We’ve survived storms, droughts, and… whatever that weird human camping trip was. But look around you now. We are here. Together. And that, my friends, is enough.” The crowd erupted in cheers, croaks, and chitters. Donovan felt a surge of warmth—not just from the fireflies, but from within. Sure, he’d made a list of resolutions, but maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to achieve every single one. Maybe the act of hoping, of dreaming, was enough to flutter into the New Year with purpose. As the countdown began—“10! 9! 8!”—Donovan turned his face to the stars. He thought of all the zigs and zags he’d taken this past year, the near-misses and the perfect landings. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was his. “3! 2! 1!” “Happy New Year!” the forest roared as fireflies lit up the night sky in spectacular patterns. Donovan felt a small tear roll down his compound eye. “Here’s to flying higher, laughing harder, and maybe eating one less mosquito… but just one.” And with that, the dragonfly launched himself into the air, his iridescent wings glowing brighter than ever. The New Year stretched ahead of him, vast and uncharted. And Donovan, the dragonfly with four seasons on his wings, was ready to face it all. The Moral of the Story So here’s to us, the Donovans of the world. Life doesn’t have to be flawless or meticulously planned. It just needs us to keep flying, dreaming, and showing up—sparkling wings and all. Cheers to a funny, hopeful, and joyfully imperfect New Year!     A Dragonfly's New Year Wish Oh, the dragonfly perched with its colorful flair, Wings of four seasons, a wardrobe so rare. "Another year passes, oh my, what a ride, But here’s to new chapters with laughter as our guide!" Winter was frigid; we froze in our tracks, Spring teased us with allergies and aching backs. Summer? Too hot—sweaty pits were a curse, And fall brought pumpkin spice (and receipts in our purse). Yet onward we go, with a toast in our hand, To a New Year ahead—unmapped, unplanned. Let’s shed off the old like a molt in the sun, And embrace every challenge, each new laugh and pun. Remember last January? The gym was our vow, Until February hit—"Eh, maybe not now." But this year is different, we swear we’ll succeed, (Though snacks during Netflix? A non-negotiable need.) The dragonfly whispers, "Just go with the flow, Let life’s breezes guide you, don’t row against snow. Your wings may get battered, your path not a line, But with humor and hope, you’ll do just fine." So here’s to mistakes, and to growth when we learn, To taking small steps, to the pages we’ll turn. The New Year awaits us, like spring's early bloom, Let’s laugh in the chaos and sweep out the gloom. Raise your glass high, let’s toast in good cheer: "To a funny, hopeful, messy New Year!" Bring the Magic of the Dragonfly Home Celebrate the beauty and hope of the seasons with products inspired by "Guardian of Changing Times." Tapestry – Perfect for adding a touch of seasonal magic to your space. Canvas Print – A stunning centerpiece for your wall art collection. Puzzle – Enjoy piecing together this intricate artwork during cozy nights in. Fleece Blanket – Wrap yourself in the warmth of this enchanting design. Click on any of the links above to explore these unique products and make the spirit of the dragonfly a part of your world!    

En savoir plus

Spellbound by Roses and Scales

par Bill Tiepelman

Spellbound by Roses and Scales

Once upon a time in a realm not far from the corner of your wildest daydreams, there was an enchantress named Lyra. Known throughout the land for her shockingly bright red hair and her particularly unusual pet—a tiny emerald-green dragon—Lyra was both feared and admired, especially for her ability to bring roses into full bloom with a mere whisper. But today, Lyra had a problem. “Listen, Thorn,” Lyra muttered, adjusting her off-the-shoulder lace gown as she gave her tiny dragon an annoyed look. Thorn, who was coiled around her shoulder like a scaly scarf, yawned and blinked lazily at her with his ruby-red eyes. “You can’t keep stealing the villagers' socks!” she scolded him, plucking a rogue sock from his little claws. “Last week it was Balthazar’s best black stockings, and he still hasn’t stopped telling people I’m some kind of sock thief.” Thorn snorted, a wisp of smoke curling from his nostrils as he nuzzled her cheek innocently. The truth was, Thorn had a bit of a sock addiction. For reasons no one quite understood, the little dragon found socks irresistibly cozy—especially single socks, which he hoarded like a treasure trove beneath Lyra’s bed. She had tried giving him blankets, but they didn’t have quite the same appeal. No, it was socks or nothing for Thorn. The Sock Conundrum To make matters worse, Lyra’s roses were getting out of hand. The roses loved her so much they had started sprouting all over the place—particularly inconveniently when they appeared in her bath, her bed, and, last Tuesday, right in the middle of her morning toast. “It’s not fair,” she grumbled to Thorn, waving a toast crust at a particularly smug-looking rose that had taken root on her kitchen table. “I mean, sure, I’m the Enchantress of the Roses and all, but I’d like at least one part of my life that doesn’t involve thorns, petals, or that endless fragrance of roses. Honestly, it’s like living in a perfume shop.” Thorn cocked his head, as if to say, And your point is…? He stretched, flicked his tail, and hopped off her shoulder, sniffing around for new socks to pilfer. Lyra sighed, rolling her eyes. Thorn was an adorable pest, and she knew it. A New Challenge But Lyra’s rose problem was about to get worse. Much worse. One fateful evening, while she was sitting in her garden trying to unwind with a glass of elderflower wine, she heard a voice behind her. “Excuse me, miss?” Lyra jumped, almost spilling her wine, and turned to see an oversized rose standing behind her. It had a remarkably debonair appearance for a flower, complete with a tiny red velvet hat and an unmistakable smirk. “I—uh—hello?” Lyra stammered, wondering if perhaps she’d had a little too much wine. “No need to look so shocked, darling,” said the rose, whose voice was surprisingly smooth. “The name’s Roderick. Roderick the Rose. And I’m here to make you an offer.” The Rose’s Proposal Now, in Lyra’s line of work, she’d dealt with many a strange magical occurrence—talking owls, gossiping pixies, even a flirtatious tree—but a talking rose was new. “An offer?” she echoed, leaning back and crossing her arms. “Alright, Roderick, you’ve got my attention.” Roderick twirled one of his leaves and winked. “You, my dear, have a certain… problem. A rose problem, if you will. Roses popping up here and there, no matter where you go. I think you and I could come to an understanding.” Lyra raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening…” “You let me stay,” Roderick proposed, “as your personal garden companion—think of me as a rose advisor of sorts. In exchange, I’ll use my magical prowess to manage your rose situation. No more blooms where you don’t want them, and maybe even a few… extras where you do.” “Extras?” Lyra said, trying to hide her intrigue. “Oh, the possibilities are endless,” Roderick assured her, puffing himself up. “Imagine: roses that bloom in the moonlight, petals that glow with the colors of sunset, roses that sing arias on your birthday. Think about it.” Lyra couldn’t help but smile. “Fine,” she said. “You can stay. But one prank, Roderick, and you’re mulch.” Roderick winked, clearly thrilled, and wiggled his stem in what might have been a bow. And Then Came the Wine-Fueled Mishaps That night, Lyra celebrated her new partnership by pouring herself another glass of elderflower wine and giving Thorn a celebratory sock (he pounced on it with glee). Everything seemed perfect—that is, until she woke up the next morning. At first, she noticed nothing amiss. But as she got up and walked to the mirror, she let out a shriek. Roderick had taken his job way too seriously. Tiny roses were now woven into her hair, down her back, even into the very fabric of her gown. And the kicker? They were all humming. Quietly, but unmistakably humming. “Roderick!” she shouted, as Thorn watched in wide-eyed delight from the bed. “Explain yourself this instant!” Roderick appeared from beneath a nearby window sill, looking remarkably pleased with himself. “Just a small token of our new partnership, darling. A bit of morning ambiance, if you will.” “Ambiance?” Lyra sputtered. “You turned me into a walking rosebush with a musical soundtrack!” She spent the rest of the day plucking roses out of her hair, scolding Roderick every time he dared to smirk, and muttering about why she ever thought talking roses were a good idea. By nightfall, however, she had to admit… the humming roses were growing on her. Life, Laughter, and Ever-Blooming Roses As days turned into weeks, Lyra found herself adjusting to her new, unusual companions. Thorn, as usual, continued his sock-stealing habits, and Roderick developed a penchant for serenading her as she cooked dinner. And though Lyra might have grumbled and scolded, she couldn’t deny that life felt a little brighter, a little more magical, with her strange little family. In the end, Lyra learned to embrace the endless roses, the cheeky dragon, and the overly charming rose with the velvet hat. Life in the enchanted garden was a beautiful mess, and Lyra wouldn’t have it any other way. And the socks? Well, Thorn never did give them up. — The End —     Bring "Spellbound by Roses and Scales" Into Your Home If Lyra’s mystical world of roses, dragons, and whimsical enchantment has captured your imagination, you can now bring a piece of that magic home. Our exclusive collection inspired by Spellbound by Roses and Scales is available in a variety of beautiful products: Tapestry – Perfect for transforming any space into an enchanted garden. Throw Pillow – Add a touch of magic and comfort to your home decor. Puzzle – Piece together the story of Lyra and Thorn with this mesmerizing puzzle. Tote Bag – Carry a bit of fantasy with you wherever you go. Each product is crafted with high-quality materials, designed to immerse you in the allure of this enchanted artwork. Browse the full collection here and let Lyra’s whimsical world find a special place in your life. This captivating tale brings to life our February Queen from the Nature’s Queens: A Year of Female Fantasy Icons - 2025 Calendar. Meet Lyra, the enchantress with fiery red hair, a mischievous emerald dragon, and a rose garden that has a mind of its own. Her magical misadventures are filled with humor, charm, and a touch of fantasy whimsy. Dive into Lyra’s world and bring home the magic with our 2025 calendar – a year-long journey celebrating fierce, enchanting icons of nature. Explore the calendar here.

En savoir plus

Explorez nos blogs, actualités et FAQ

Vous cherchez toujours quelque chose ?