Vivid in my memory, her side touched with golden beams, she stepped over the log.  Her legs reached down like stilts, poking the ground with holes.  She smiled at the wind curling her hair.  Her arms embraced the trees whose empty limbs curled also.

I loop this film round in my head, desperate for the essence of the moment, of a woman whom I almost knew.  I lift my arms, as she did, but the air doesn't move the same, with sparkle and realness.  I smile, but confused; I cannot find the place she belongs.

I roll my eyes back and keep looking.

photo by missy prince.