The sky was overcast, and the air, crisp. I tugged the laces of my hiking boots, securing their tautness. I hadn't been on this particular trail in over a year, but I've come to know it well.
Bits of rock and tree roots stretched across the footpath. It was well maintained with views for days. I found my rhythm of watching where I step, while admiring my surroundings.
I was alone on the trail, where I had the opportunity to move at my own pace.
Slow down, love. You've been waiting for this.
The more present I became, the more I felt it's magic. The greens of the earth were vibrant and lush. A fleck of tenderness mingled with jagged rocks.
It felt fresh and new, while all so familiar. A giddiness took over me that I hadn't felt in years.
Fairies live here.
When I was a teen, I discovered the works of Cicely Mary Barker. I was deep into my art studies when I came across her drawings of fairies and flowers. Her work blew me away. It still does.
I would draw fairies and paint fairies. Friends would gift me little winged trinkets. They were fun and joy-filled to me. As I got older, I tucked the trinkets away in a storage bin.
That sweet little thought of fairies along the trail lifted my spirits, and reminded me how important it is to cultivate creativity.
As I rounded the hiking loop, and got closer to the entrance, a family of four were just ahead of me. The mother called her daughter over and said, "Look!"
The little girl, no more than five years old, spun around on her heel. As her blonde hair swayed with her steps, she leaned over to take a peek.
"Don't you think fairies live here?" the mom smiled.
Yes, sweetheart. Yes they do.
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