I discovered a beautiful new word, “psithurism”, which means the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze. It was in the form of a tattoo on the collarbone of a smiley pink-haired waitress who kindly let me photograph her favourite word, now mine too.
I discovered a beautiful new word, “psithurism”, which means the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze. It was in the form of a tattoo on the collarbone of a smiley pink-haired waitress who kindly let me photograph her favourite word, now mine too.