Lily's Pond

It was an enchanted place, Lily’s pond. The secret grove was brimming with lively sounds and vibrant colors, all spinning in a mesmerizing dance of pure, unforgiving beauty. Every soft, nature-scented breeze, delicate flower, and unique, green-tinged leaf spoke of life. The crystal waters of the pond lapped gently against the supple grass reinforcing the shore, and sunlight sparkled across rippling waves. Any stranger would gasp at their gorgeous surroundings, and find themselves lost for hours among its magical properties. But the memories behind those surreal colors dampen my once deep love for Lily’s pond. When walking alongside the untainted waters of the pond, I can only think of the little girl who breathed sweet innocence and was the picture of childlike perfection that took the pond and called it her own. The young child who spent hours inside her hidden place, guarding its secrets with a fervor only children can have, falling hopelessly in love with the animals and the nature. So many times I looked outside to watch her run among the trees, chasing her creatures and tumbling down grassy inclines. I lost count of the times I wandered through to find her sleeping, nestled in the warm embrace of a tree, or curled on the grass. But one memory stands well above the rest, of watching the gentle wind push my little girl, and the ancient trees trip her, and the liquid blue waters steal her away from me. One moment replays itself over and over, because I wasn’t fast enough. That enchanted place is Lily’s pond, because she will always live there, and the pond will always have her.