Lake Lewisia #323

[scrubjayspeaks]

She had been raised in stories, so she knew that every puddle might drop her down a well into another world, every hole in the hedgerow might open into a mysterious kingdom. She splashed and stomped in her rain boots and burrowed between branches, never realizing that not all worlds hide on the other side of a portal. Sometimes you just wander into a stranger’s yard, where she is spinning wool into yarn on the back porch, and she lets you stay and learn, and you are the only thing that has changed, but still, everything is different.

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LL#323