Ferns are all over the mountainside of our cabin. When we arrive, usually late at night, one of the first things I do is take a deep breath and inhale all of that wonderful fern goodness. That smell means relax- you are where you really want to be.
In the spring, we watch for the little fiddleheads popping through the leaf cover on the forest floor. In the summer, I sit on the porch and watch the lacy fronds sway in the breeze. I have even tried to transplant a few into our cottage shade garden. Ferns are simple, elegant. A symbol of the forest to me.
Tucked in here and there among the trees, like we are tucked in, in the middle of our mountain.
I am not sure that I would use all of these new fern "lovelies" from Pottery Barn. They are not exactly the vintage rustic style I am want to create for the space. But perhaps I can use them in our little cottage in the middle of suburbia- a constant reminder of the cabin and the forest of ferns waiting for us there.
Linkin' Love: Inspired Room