July in Georgian England was a season of transition. The glittering whirl of the London social season began to fade, sending the fashionable set back to their country estates. Dusty roads filled with carriages returning to quieter parishes and slower rhythms. For some, this meant extreme boredom. But for Jane Austen, July held the possibility of profound transformation. This midsummer month—rich with vitality, ripening fruit, and longer sun-filled days—marked a significantly

The rain has been relentless lately. It's days like these that make me want to stay in bed, light a candle, and cozy up to a book for forever. Today I peeked upon a perfectly poignant piece by one of my favorite poetesses and letter writers... ... Dear Elizabeth Bishop, I wish I lived in a time and place where I could exchange letters with you. In lieu of such a paradox, I am attaching some doodles I drew of flowers which are blooming this month. Sincerely yours, Forever-jeal