Lanternmoss & Shadowstone

It is easy, with memories or stories or dreams, to forget the wordless poetry of real sensation, of living in the world and letting it shed its liveliness upon you.

Derry, the gardener of Haverdell, and Barrow, his loyal hound, have embarked upon a week of wandering in the high hills at the end of summer. This is a journey without aim save only for pure experience: a chance to roam, rove, wander, learn, live, feel, think, dream, and participate in the wide wild world without expectation or recompense. They take these wanders every year, and every time they return renewed.

On this journey, Barrow's keen nose leads them to a waterfall and a cave—both draped in a mysterious blue-green moss that grows in strange swirling designs and glows with an ethereal light. The cave holds the belongings of long-ago visitors, as well as a passage to a beautiful valley in the hills that has been untrodden by man or dog in many long decades.

Derry and Barrow investigate the valley and find an old magic waiting for them there, a subtle and puissant lingering power that transforms their journey, illuminates them with memories of an earlier age, and imparts truths about protection, duty, bravery, strength, and wisdom.

As gardener and hound return to the civilization of the wilds, they find their place of belonging better than ever before—and rediscover the exultant magic of rain on the leaves, mist in the hills, sunshine and birdsong, and the small sacrifices of life and love.