Ella was about to stride past the roots of the old birch, spreading and then crossing on the soft forest duff to form a plump canoe shape. The tips of the lady fern encroaching at each side of the old path brushed against her bare ankles, causing her to pause to scratch her ankle while her eyes swept the small space. "I remember when this was my fairy garden" she mused. "I used to sit here and arrange..." as she eased down onto one hip. "Ugh" the ground was damp and there were a few chunky sticks and a pebble just under her thigh. How did she ever sit here for any length of time? Just at the base of the tree there was the small triangular hole that was probably actually a sign of heart rot but once was the door into an imagined cellar where a friendly Daddy Long Legs lived. Ella twiddled a small stick into the hole just to be cautious. "The moss in here makes such a nice carpet. I'd kill for that at home." One side of her mouth tucked in as she remembered the beige and off white and "mushroom" colors on offer at the local home stores. "Mushroom" was never red or garnet with small white flecks, never salamander orange! "Eggshell" was never the rich blue of a robin's egg...
"Oh! For goodness' sake there's the white quartz" she used as a coffee table, still pushed up against the far root. "Here's a stack of hickory nut shells. When I was a kid these would have made perfect bowls." Ella remembered the little acorn dolls she made to live here. They had been learning about the Greek myths in school, and she'd thought Hera made a perfect name for her acorn lady, but Cindy said it was "plug-it-in-ism" to just use the exact name, so they'd changed it just a bit. Later of course they'd both learned the word was "plagiarism" and it wasn't... but of course by then the name had stuck. Her little acorn couple Hira and Ethan had fought squirrels and gone on adventures, but they always returned to be cuddled between the roots of this old beech under blankets of whatever leaf had been loveliest and most supple. Ella pushed an index finger into the soil, testing the moss for depth and moisture, and adding a bit under her fingernail. "Well." She shoved to her feet. Maybe she'd bring her grandchild here someday... would five or six be too early? About right?
She brushed the bits of dirt, stick and leaf off her shorts and legs and picked a bit of twig out of her shoe. It took a bit of a stretch and back arch to feel completely un-kinked, and frankly, entirely grown up again. As she strode off, a small brown knob carefully poked around the edge of the opening at the base, and peered after her. "I think it's safe to come out now Eth... she seems to be leaving." Another joined her. "I still think it was her. It looked like her to me, and I always heard human children change over the years." Hira scowled a bit; "Don't be silly. She'd be at least a sapling by now." Hira and Eth began to tug moss over a small divot in the living room floor.
Ella was about to stride past the roots of the old birch, spreading and then crossing on the soft forest duff to form a plump canoe shape. The tips of the lady fern encroaching at each side of the old path brushed against her bare ankles, causing her to pause to scratch her ankle while her eyes swept the small space. "I remember when this was my fairy garden" she mused. "I used to sit here and arrange..." as she eased down onto one hip. "Ugh" the ground was damp and there were a few chunky sticks and a pebble just under her thigh. How did she ever sit here for any length of time? Just at the base of the tree there was the small triangular hole that was probably actually a sign of heart rot but once was the door into an imagined cellar where a friendly Daddy Long Legs lived. Ella twiddled a small stick into the hole just to be cautious. "The moss in here makes such a nice carpet. I'd kill for that at home." One side of her mouth tucked in as she remembered the beige and off white and "mushroom" colors on offer at the local home stores. "Mushroom" was never red or garnet with small white flecks, never salamander orange! "Eggshell" was never the rich blue of a robin's egg...
"Oh! For goodness' sake there's the white quartz" she used as a coffee table, still pushed up against the far root. "Here's a stack of hickory nut shells. When I was a kid these would have made perfect bowls." Ella remembered the little acorn dolls she made to live here. They had been learning about the Greek myths in school, and she'd thought Hera made a perfect name for her acorn lady, but Cindy said it was "plug-it-in-ism" to just use the exact name, so they'd changed it just a bit. Later of course they'd both learned the word was "plagiarism" and it wasn't... but of course by then the name had stuck. Her little acorn couple Hira and Ethan had fought squirrels and gone on adventures, but they always returned to be cuddled between the roots of this old beech under blankets of whatever leaf had been loveliest and most supple. Ella pushed an index finger into the soil, testing the moss for depth and moisture, and adding a bit under her fingernail. "Well." She shoved to her feet. Maybe she'd bring her grandchild here someday... would five or six be too early? About right?
She brushed the bits of dirt, stick and leaf off her shorts and legs and picked a bit of twig out of her shoe. It took a bit of a stretch and back arch to feel completely un-kinked, and frankly, entirely grown up again. As she strode off, a small brown knob carefully poked around the edge of the opening at the base, and peered after her. "I think it's safe to come out now Eth... she seems to be leaving." Another joined her. "I still think it was her. It looked like her to me, and I always heard human children change over the years." Hira scowled a bit; "Don't be silly. She'd be at least a sapling by now." Hira and Eth began to tug moss over a small divot in the living room floor.