There's Magic Here

She lived in a tree. Well not just in one tree, but this specific one had been her favorite for months now. It had the best view of dancing fireflies she’d ever seen. Every evening was like having a front row seat to the world’s quietest fireworks display. On rainy days she loved to climb as high as possible so that she’d be the first to feel the rain. After a few drops, she’d share her findings to any birds or squirrels looking to take cover.

She lived in a tree, though she slept in a house. But all her waking hours were spent climbing, inspecting, hanging from, or lying in branches. Often disguised by leaves, she stayed mostly hidden from most of the world. On a good day, if she was quiet enough, her tree would have many visitors. They would fly above or scurry below, or sometimes walk right up beside her.

Her tree was home. Her tree was where she understood the world and the world understood her. It’s where her mind was quietest, but she never got bored. She whispered to the leaves and they would whisper back, sometimes carrying secrets from trees far away that were much older and wiser than she could ever imagine being. Both her mind and body found rest when the sun lightly danced across her face, shadows from leaves creating ever moving patterns across her closed eyelids. Yes, all was peaceful in her tree.

“SOPHIAAAAAAA!” a shout jolted her awake.

Sighing, the girl slowly climbed out of her home whispering goodbye to her friends.

“Sorry I’ll miss tonight’s fireworks,” she said. “I promise to see them tomorrow.”

She grabbed her bag that the tree had graciously been holding onto for her and slung it over her shoulder. While walking in the late afternoon light, she tried to remember one of the patterns she had seen right before slipping out of consciousness. She took out her pencil and notebook and tried to scratch down what she could. It wasn’t as beautiful as what the leaves had made, but she thought the likeness was pretty close for having been drawn while walking.

When she reached the clearing of the lawn, she put her things away and hid the bag under her guard rock, which she named Frederick. Reaching the back door of the house, she put her hand on the knob but didn’t turn it until she gave one last look back at the forest filled with seemingly endless trees.

“Until tomorrow,” she said under her breath. The door clicked open, and she walked inside to face another night away from home.