Isn’t it a lovely thought?
Doesn’t the fantasy enchant you?
I’ve always entertained the thought that
the weather and the changing of the seasons
was dependent upon these little pixies.
“Fairies” was a common focal point for most of
my childhood games.
What fun it was!
When the earth is in these early transition stages from season to season (mainly winter into spring and sumer into fall), I seem to become enthralled will all sorts of memories of old games and stories we used to play in our beloved forest. We’d become so involved at times that it would take a full week to complete (sometimes, if the story was really good, our game would last three or four weeks!).
My love for flowers and fairy tales hasn’t faded, though, I reluctantly state the bitier truth, when you do ‘grow up’ (I’ll use that term loosely), all of those hours you once had in abundance, gradually disappear. And the sunny days you once spent fluttering about the woods without a care in the world slowly become less and less.
It’s funny really. I spent my childhood in part agony over the anticipated pain inevitable with growing up. But really, it happened so slowly, and so gradually. So softly, so quietly. My love for frill and fairy goodness morphed into a beautiful romance between me and my gardens. Instead of playing fairies, I actually kinda get to be on (in s sense).
Caring for the roses, and watching their new red leaves emerge out of a seemingly dead grey cane, its magical! Come May I’ll be addicted to charting the process of the tiny buds beginning to form, and there on, growth continues rapidly giving me the gift of sweetness from their hard work.
Part of me won’t ever grow up.
(I’d like to meet someone who hasn’t fully grown up).
I like to think of myself as a free spirited pixie, living among the roses and caring for the flowers.
For once my dream is a reality!