sweet as pie

The forest stretched out before Adelinda. There was the faintest scent of charred wood deep within the soil that told stories of a fire long ago. Flashes of fire echoed through her mind. Did such a thing cause sorrow for those who had once resided here? The smell of fire carried ever so lightly across the cool and crisp breeze.

Another image of blossoming trees growing from the ashes. The trees with their vibrant pink blossoms that defiantly clung to the branches despite the chill of autumn. The juxtaposition of death and renewal filled her with awe. To others, death was a tragedy, a haunting reminder of loss. To her, decay nourished the soil and paved the way for new life. Vibrant life.

Oh how she loved autumn. A season of transformation. Every falling leaf was a tiny death in the final dance of the seasons. In some ways, they all were tiny leaves.

Adelinda's eyes wandered as her body did. The forest spoke into her very soul. The soft damp earth cradled her delicate paws like a hug. The rustle of a passing breeze whispered in her ear. She moved deeper into the forest, her tail caressing the trunks as she walked by. Everything is woven together with time.


"SPEECH"