Sometimes, she'd sit there and wonder.
Winter bit at her wriggling toes. Christmas soon to come. The scent of apple cedar wood mingling with the husky smell of burning logs sending her to sleep in that strange woman's arms. No, it wasn't the strange woman, actually. The strange woman wouldn't arrive until four more winters had passed. Actually it was the familiar woman, the one who preferred apple cedar wood incense. Familiar woman's hair would be her plaything during the days and her pacifier by night. Soft sets of warm hands cooing at her perfect tiny nose. Even softer voices whispering their undying love over and over. Drifting away to sweet slumber, security only second to that of the familiar woman's embrace.
It all faded into spring, the familiar woman's most beloved season. The flowers bore the familiar woman's namesake. They burst through the soil, eager for bright sunshine. All the colours of the rainbow reborn into flora greeted them. Specks of crimson and cyan and mint dazzled her inquisitive eyes. None were so grand as to surpass the beauty of the familiar woman as she pranced not unlike a nymph barefoot among them. Humanity was the child of Mother Nature. None loved their mother so much as the familiar woman did. Her passion for each baby bulb, each ladybird that clambered the stems of violas, each blade of grass bathing in the light. Did anyone hold so much love in equal measures as she did?