General

There was a light upon that wooden floor that danced and played as the feet of happy children might. It was as if, over those century-strong-browns, in a house that had felt so much love, every tiny action had conspired to create this beauty.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 1, 2019.
General

The floor was the forest browns, those many soulful hues that calmed the spirit and elevated the heart. I stretched my hand over the glossy surface, my finger prints touching the swirls of the grains. It had been made from a tree that fell in the autumn winds, one nature gave to us. Otherwise it would have been left to grow and this floor would be something else.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 1, 2019.
General

The wooden floor was a chorus of browns; they sung together, a capella of baritone hues that rose up into vibrant soprano notes. It was a fitting place for their new studio, a place for those new sounds to soak right in and join the spirit that was already there.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 1, 2019.
General

With the planks sanded and stained, the flowing grain of the wood was as gentle waves upon a shore. They were as still as any photograph if one had a mind for stillness, yet in the times of music and movement they played too, as if by some memory of living.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, September 1, 2019.