A love letter to the land

sort of letter 27-year-old Theo expected on a cold Wednesday morning. He'd grown used to the digital clutter of his life

ative he could barely remember. He stared at the words, eyes glazed over, as the weight of what it meant began to settle in. The vast open sky, the scent of fres

L CHAL

hat, for all its beauty, whispered of decay. The farmhouse, with its sagging roof and crumbling brick, loomed behind him

caretaker. Jasper had been here for decades, managing the place in the absence of anyone else. Now, with

critical eye. "Been worked too hard, too long without care. If you're

. Profits were nonexistent, debts were stacking up, and the locals had lo