A Field Of Her Own
A journey of lightness in a valley of petals
She couldn’t stand arguing with her brothers, even though she loved them and didn’t want to ruin their afternoons of imagination and play. At times, it was just a matter of escape. Living in the Norman countryside was the greatest blessing she could ever taste: the glow of her blonde hair mixed seamlessly with the straw yellow of the thatched roof of her chaumière, the typical French cottage of the area where her family had been living for the past two decades. Her serenity reached its peak when she went for a walk alone. The wind was caressing her floral sundress and suddenly she was evading the dismissive thoughts that had been occupying her mind lately. The landscape reminded her of the permanent love of her mother, the softness in her hands and that cuddling voice she heard every night before sleeping. The whimsical petals of the irises brought to her mind the unpredictable energy of her two silly yet loving siblings. She had found it again: the sparkle in her eyes was insuperable, her heart was bursting with delight. Everything made sense, all was full of love.