i didn't buy this land for a business.
i bought it for the wild ones.
Ten acres of hillside stretched out behind my home in Temecula, untouched and alive with the wildlife that moved through it. When the land came up for sale, I bought it
so it could stay that way — no fences, no development, only open space
where the wild ones could continue to live freely.
Over time, I came to know the land deeply. I walked it often through
dry summers and vibrant springs, always passing an old oak at the top of the hill.
It became my own sanctuary, a place to think and to breathe.
Then one day, while reading a story called Little Whisker and the Memory Tree,
I could see it clearly: the oak at the top of the hill could become a real place
of remembrance, and the land itself, a true resting place.
Read the story that inspired it all below.
Ten acres of hillside stretched out behind my home in Temecula, untouched and alive with the wildlife that moved through it. When the land came up for sale, I bought it
so it could stay that way — no fences, no development, only open space
where the wild ones could continue to live freely.
Over time, I came to know the land deeply. I walked it often through
dry summers and vibrant springs, always passing an old oak at the top of the hill.
It became my own sanctuary, a place to think and to breathe.
Then one day, while reading a story called Little Whisker and the Memory Tree,
I could see it clearly: the oak at the top of the hill could become a real place
of remembrance, and the land itself, a true resting place.
Read the story below.
i didn't buy this land for a business.
i bought it for the wild ones.
Ten acres of hillside stretched out behind my home in Temecula, untouched and alive with the wildlife that moved through it. When the land came up for sale, I bought it
so it could stay that way — no fences, no development, only open space
where the wild ones could continue to live freely.
Over time, I came to know the land deeply. I walked it often through
dry summers and vibrant springs, always passing an old oak at the top of the hill.
It became my own sanctuary, a place to think and to breathe.
Then one day, while reading a story called Little Whisker and the Memory Tree,
I could see it clearly: the oak at the top of the hill could become a real place
of remembrance, and the land itself, a true resting place.
Read the story that inspired it all below.
LITTLE WHISKER AND THE MEMORY TREE
Once upon a time, in a quiet glade, lived a cheerful mouse named Little Whisker.
One spring morning, she spotted Mr. Hoot, the old owl, tying a carved acorn to a string beneath a great oak tree.
"What are you doing, Mr. Hoot?" she asked.
"I'm making a keepsake for my friend Mrs. Hedgewig," he said. "Though she is gone, this token helps me remember her."
Little Whisker thought of her own dear friend, Pippin the sparrow, and asked, "Could I make one, too?
"Of course,” said Mr. Hoot. He showed her how to weave a tiny heart from bluebell petals. Little Whisker placed it under the oak, whispering thanks to Pippin.
Soon, other animals began adding their own keepsakes to the Memory Tree–feathers, paw prints, and flowers, each a token of love and friendship.
The tree became a place of comfort, where stories were shared,
and the animals remembered those they held dear.
And so, the Memory Tree stood, a quiet reminder that love endures, even when goodbyes must be said.
LITTLE WHISKERS AND
THE MEMORY TREE
Once upon a time, in a quiet glade, lived a cheerful mouse named Little Whisker.
One spring morning, she spotted Mr. Hoot, the old owl, tying a carved acorn to a string beneath a great oak tree.
"What are you doing, Mr. Hoot?" she asked.
"I'm making a keepsake for my friend Mrs. Hedgewig," he said. "Though she is gone, this token helps me remember her."
Little Whisker thought of her own dear friend, Pippin the sparrow, and asked, "Could I make one, too?
"Of course,” said Mr. Hoot. He showed her how to weave a tiny heart from bluebell petals. Little Whisker placed it under the oak, whispering thanks to Pippin.
Soon, other animals began adding their own keepsakes to the Memory Tree–feathers, paw prints, and flowers, each a token of love and friendship.
The tree became a place of comfort, where stories were shared,
and the animals remembered those they held dear.
And so, the Memory Tree stood, a quiet reminder that love endures, even when goodbyes must be said.