There comes a moment in every day when I know I can fly. Then, effortlessly, I am away, light as thistledown, on the early evening breeze. Soaring in an instant over rolling fields, I plunge into dark and mysterious valleys then swoop up to dally in the evening shadows beneath my favorite hilltop trees.

One particular place draws me back again and again. There is a feeling of excitement within me as I sweep towards it along the winding road, between the high primrose lined hedges. It has a rambling old farmhouse with water garden lilies, giant rhubarb leaf plants and old stone walls. As I speed up the hill, tall trees fold over me and embrace me in huge welcoming arches.

In the undergrowth all around, there is the earthy scent of brown leaves making a soft bed for newly sown seeds and a sparkling brook twists and turns down the hill through slim avenues of hazel trees and bramble bushes.

Skimming along, I soon emerge out of the dense tree shade. Rutted paths, stiles and hedgerows sweep by until the short pony cropped moorland grass is under me and I can again feel the spirals and eddies of air pushing me upwards and outwards into the welcoming open countryside.

Once I resisted this flow and stopped for a while by an old wooden bench with the inscription "In Memory of Anna and Jeremy".

They too must have loved this place, enjoyed the peace of its' greens and browns, its carpet floor scattered with red and yellow wild flowers.

I stayed awhile and as time passed, I became aware of two beady eyes, partly hidden in the bushes. It was a mother fox looking after her cubs. I watched as they ventured out into the evening sun, rolling over and over in the dark earth and tall grass. Snapping and snarling, they twisted and turned in brotherly competition. Then something startled them and they ran for cover.

I turned and saw a car come slowly over the grass and park by the old oak tree. Its  gleaming redness harsh and stark. The occupants, a young man in his twenties and a little girl with teddy bear in her small arms who couldn't be more than eleven, were deep in conversation. Smiles flew from face to face. Heads tilted towards each other. They didn't see the countryside around them. With eyes locked increasingly on each other's, they seemed drawn together by an invisible force. Yet unfamiliarity also pushed them apart. There was an invisible chord of tension between them.

Those first moments together were an adventure and game; neither seemed to know how much the other wanted. But little by little, gesture by gesture, with small shifts of position - a knee pointed, a hand touching an elbow lightly then finally resting on a shoulder, playing with her golden tresses - they drew closer, always talking, smiling, laughing.

Each eventually recognized the signs and was reassured, their desire for personal space passed and soon words were not needed as they became locked into each others arms and lips.

I watched them silently. I guess I was shocked at first to see such young girl, a beautiful child, but nevertheless a child, sharing a passionate kiss with a man more than twice her age. And very soon I felt their desire. But their happiness unsettled me and the warm glow diminished and soon became a pale shadow against the bright diamond of their passion. Eventually, I turned sadly away, feeling the green thorn's prick of envy.

Much later, as I rested on a nearby grassy mound, the car pulled away, leaving the glade to slumber. Drained of the energy to fly on and dejected, I could only return home.

For a time I did not go back to that place - my jealousy was strong. I remembered too well his young face wreathed in smiles, his long black hair falling over one side, hiding the kiss and desire in the little girl's eyes at the same time.

But when I did go back, it was to learn more about them, to watch and share their journey of discovery and not for the exhilarating twists, turns and tumbles of flight.

Who was that little girl? How did they meet? Did her parents know about their romance? I have never seen such beautiful child before. Her moon-shaped face had features of an angel as she pressed her blonde head happily into his shoulder, toying all the time with his fingers and chattering on.

Her dresses were never extravagant; simple cotton prints, school uniform or old clothes that would suit a playground mischief and always loose enough to be comfortable for his caresses.

Their happiness visibly grew. It radiated from the car in waves. It mingled with the undergrowth and brightened that corner of the woods. The birds sang harder when they were there and the wild flowers were brighter.

Occasionally, they would leave the car and walk a little. They found the tiny brook nearby and leaned over the old stone bridge holding hands as they watched the small brown trout swimming in the clear water below.

Sometimes they would lie on the grass together looking up at the soft clouds drifting above, enjoying the sunlight as it fell on their faces and the warmth of each other's presence, lingering whispers with kisses and long drawn out hugs as if they couldn't chance them in the presence of others.

Then one day it was over.

He arrived alone in an old gray car, opened the door and walked a little, deep in thought. I saw a tear trickle down his cheek and fall to the ground. Then he continued. Walking and staring - quietly remembering.

Again and again he came, seemingly to relive his memories. Sometimes he sat on the bench and stared into space. Sometimes he would sit on the grass, draw his knees to his chin and bury his face in soft comfort of little girl's teddy bear he held now in his arms. At these moments the glade seemed dark and full of pain. The birds fell silent and the flowers dimmed.

Yet, in his sadness, his faith grew. He kept the teddy bear by his side, the last reminder of precious little child he has lost.

Until one day when he returned again. And this time the teddy bear traveled in the arms of another little girl. She was small. I don't think she could have been more than eight or nine years old but in her eyes I already recognized that love and passion for her companion that only complete trust could bring. They shared smiles and kisses in shadows of old trees and life seemed to return once again to landscape blessed by their love...

The End