A small child roams the forest behind her house, giddy with the freshness that spring brings to her surroundings and to her heart. She discovers a magic path that leads her to a place where anything she dreams comes to life and dances before her very eyes. She builds a home for these dreams, tucks them into the bed of soft earth just before the sun sets.
Summer settles into her life, sticky and red like strawberry popsicles. Her dreams are still here, and some have melted into thoughts but she doesn't notice yet. She has plenty more to take their place. Another day, another link. They become her friends, laughing as she laughs, showing her secrets that no one else will ever be able to show her.
A young girl walks alone in a forest. Sometimes by day, sometimes by night. Always by herself but never alone: a few of her old dreams are somewhere, although they are hiding among the company of new thoughts. She still finds peace in the green around her, in the leaves as they cleanly filter sunlight down to her cheek, warming her to the bone. Then autumn comes, as it will, and she hears for the first time the sound as the leaves crunch beneath her feet. They are so delicate, so easily crushed by one misstep. She revisists the spot she had loved before, but it is less familiar. Still, it is filled with her giggles, though now some of her tears mingle with them. After a short while, her old dreams come out to play blatantly with the girl, and the bond is renewed. For a time.
A woman comes home for the holidays, brimming with pride and joy and nostalgia. This year is special -- it's been a long time since she's been here, and so much has changed. She takes a walk through the forest behind her house, thinks of her past; remembers the long days she spent running through these very trees and day-dreaming, feeling nothing and something at once. She then thinks of her present: a little girl all her own who sits on the lap of her grandfather now, back in the house surrounded by the fire, the wreaths, the smiling faces. She almost turns around, thinking she should head back to her family and help with the decorating, the baking, the everything. But then she thinks she somehow hears a dim, light sound in the distance, like the peal of a small girl's laughter. It might have been a memory, or a ghost of a thought. But it is so faint and fleeting that she simply shakes her head, walks on, and passes it off as a trick of the wind.
