A vignette:
She emerged from the lake with sea water eyes and rose petal lips. Fractions of shells curved around her eye lashes as she opened them to the moon. Her fingers reached for the beads of moonlight running down her arms. For a while she sat in solitude and stared into the water that birthed her. It's smooth currents were carrying lily pads and leaf boats down to a place where fish bones ended up. The tree roots beneath her intertwined with the earth. Soaking up the lake water so the oaks never went thirsty. Some of oaks hadn't notice the vagabond's birth but the older oaks had. The oaks that had stopped growing and watched and listened patiently to the world around them. Some of the old oaks whispered, Qui est que? to each other as the girl began to rise from the earth. Her feet sank into the moist soil as she learned how to move from side to side like man. Many years ago, she had seen the reflection of man walk near her lake. Now, it was her turn to mimic their movements. Stumbling over dirt and stones until she became an expert walker. Her lungs were not used to such heavy air, so she had to rest every so often. But just as she was getting comfortable, she heard the old oaks whisper, Tu dois passe.
Oh but she didn't realize that the pools of crystal starlight above her also cried, à bientôt ma petite, nous espérons.

because everyone eventually belongs to the stars.

((taken some time ago when we felt things were at it's best ))


  1. your blog is lovely dear.

    lindsey louise


    1. Ms. Lindsey thank you so much.