Today.
I miss those years, the ones that felt like lifetimes.
Years when my friends were all talking trees and whispers in the garden.
I miss my only enemy being the thorn bush or an uneven plot of ground.
That lifetime is over and I am expected to have "real" friends.
My enemy, like me, has grown. It has grown so large that I myself have become the It.
These "real" friends don't want me and the trees won't take me back. I am stuck somewhere in the middle, chased around by my enemy inside.
Maybe she too needs only a friend.....
93. Our lives were infinite
Whispers in the Garden
* 94. My friends were all Talking trees
They want me to have "real" friends.
The thorn bush or the uneven plot of ground
95. The Trees won't take me back
96. My enemy, I am now IT.
*if you have the time, after opening on the blog, open a few of the distant photos in a new tab and zoom in, they are beautiful.
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