A quiet shoreline, ancient cedars.
Seashells, even older.
Not a doll, but a garden faerie, brought to the beach by two grown-up little girls.
A faerie bowl – just for her.
She shares with her friend, faerie Megan, and her two pet swans.
Even garden faeries like to look for shells.
And dip their toes in the water.
“We do not stop playing because we grow old;
we grow old because we stop playing.”
~These Days Of Mine~
these days of mine 