Amongst the backdrop of a secluded woods where the meadows stretch across for miles. Filled high with sunflowers, and low growing wildflowers. Trees teeter tall like guardian giants casting buckets of shade with their magnificent leafy umbrella branches. Here you will find her, sitting in the shade of her favorite protective guardian, notebook and pen in hand. But she is like a whisper in the wind; when it shifts, swiftly she moves, silent and ever changing. Now you might see her under the shadow of a gazing palm tree, together speaking the secrets of the world. Soaking up the sun, she sits upon a blanket of golden sand, watching the waves crash into one another as if conversating violently. Her inspiration comes from many aspects of nature, always as quick to change as the weather itself, and never lingering. Truthfully I have never been able to catch up with her, only caught glimpses of her auburn, brown hair catching rays of sunlight. Stolen glances of her features, always darkened out by the shadows in which she so quickly flits from one to the other. No, I do not know anything of her history, where she resides, or where she will turn up next. I do know, however, that her stories are magic, imagination gone wild, and beauty untamed.