Little Girl in the Woods

Laughter fills the air. Her own laughter. Its joyous ring so strange, so out of place. Like a baby's first laugh, her laughter is new, almost foreign. Had almost been forgotten. The light from the sun is distorted through the branches above her head. Weaving in and out of trees, hopping on and off of rocks, she moves with never before felt freedom.  She chases after no one, enjoying the carelessness of her own company. For once in her life, she lets go. Lets go of her worries, lets go of her fears, lets go of her need to impress. Alone and carefree. Losing herself in the unknown world of her happiness. Like a little girl in the woods.