T.H. Wyman grew up in Texas and moved to Maine in 2000, not knowing she was staying. Her first winter was brutal. By spring, she knew she was never going back.
Twenty-six years later, the fall still stops her cold — windows down, pulled over on the side of the road, with her camera, wondering how something can be that color and still be real.
The scent of crushed mint and dried lavender isn't just something T.H. Wyman writes about — it's often under her fingernails. She is an herbalist, a reader, a photographer, and a devoted watcher of birds. She has loved writing since she was sixteen years old — it just took a long time and a lot of life to find her way back to it. When she did, the love was still there waiting. It always had been. It had just been sleeping.
She lives in Maine's Lakes Region, where she works with teas, tallow, and traditional apothecary practices, and is working toward the cabin on the water she has been building toward for a long time.