Wednesday, March 14, 2007
On top of the hill we tripped through silver spider threads . The sun was warm and we held it safe in our golden fur. There were butterflies, and noisy birds in the sky. She was not well so we all sat on Her to keep Her warmer still, and covered Her like a ginger blanket.
On the way down the hill we tumbled over each other and pounced and fought, like wildcats.