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"Bry-aw?" I asked in a sweet chirping voice.

"Briar has gone to her lessons. We’ll join her for lunch," my mother replied. "In the meantime, let’s enjoy the sunlight. Can you say sunlight?"

I nodded. "Suh."

She smiled indulgently down at me. "That’s right. Sunlight." She led us across our sprawling, manicured backyard and closer to the wilds beyond. As I held her hand, the world felt so big, so beautiful, and so full of adventure.

To keep my attention on our walk, she sang one of my favorite tunes.

"Sunlight and water

Earth and air

Talking tulips

Pull at your hair."

She reached down and gently tugged a lock of my hair, and I giggled.

"Rosemary’s roots

have taken

Lion’s aroarin’

Time for this garden to awaken!"

She raised her voice on the last word, and I tried to mimic her with a little shout of my own. She smiled affectionately down at me.

"A blue fae flower

from those nasty folk

Sing a song and

crack a yolk."

I crinkled my nose at the word "folk."

"Whispers and secrets

soon will be shared.

Did you remember susurrus,

my dear?"

Before we made it beyond the hedge, a gardener stopped momma. I whined and pulled and twisted. She picked me up, but finally let me wriggle free.

At first, I wandered around at her feet, grabbing clumps of grass in my chubby, little fingers and bringing them up to my nose to smell.

But I grew bored with the grownups. I wandered closer to the big hedgerow and stepped into its dense foliage, peeking through the branches at Momma.

Hide and seek.

She didn’t seem to notice. So, I pushed my way through to the other side and ran. She’d never catch me!

Soon, I came upon a secret garden, obscured by overgrown white rose bushes and shaded by old oak trees dripping with moss.