Light flutters on my eyelids through the forest’s verdant lace.
My tiny body bouncing in cadence with Dad’s steps.
We arrive at a wooden hut and duck inside.
It’s damp, cool, dark.
Water tumbles over mossy rocks.
Bobbing in the dark water, a large green ball.
Shiny and solitary.
Dad picks it up and cradles it in his arms.
We walk home.