Some of the trees of White Peak stand tall and proud like sentinels of the sun. A white veil swirls about their steady frames, moisture gathers and drips from the canopy down to the mass of trunks and smaller trees. Most of the life happens below, smaller trees dwarfed by their older brothers. Their wiry, netted hair dangling to the forest floor, swaying as they gossip among themselves. The more talkative of them whisper and crackle into the heavy air. Little leaves ejected like spittle.

Skit-scratch.

Premium + Digital Edition

Ad-free access


P 80 per month
(billed annually at P 960)
  • Unlimited ad-free access to website articles
  • Limited offer: Subscribe today and get digital edition access for free (accessible with up to 3 devices)

TRY FREE FOR 14 DAYS
See details
See details