The breeze tickled her hair and fingers, threatening to chill her further, but if she could just stay still long enough for the sun to seep through her skin, she could lie out in the yard for a little longer. It was summer after all, she was due for a tan, even if it was unseasonably chilly. She was nestled right in the place where flat ground became a hill, and the grass was young and bright and soft. Her hair was becoming companiable with the dirt, and the bottoms of her feet were already starting to blacken and develop a protective coating of calluses, but she didn't mind. You could call them war wounds. Casualties of being outdoorsy. She simply enjoyed her quiet time here in the woods too much to care about appearances. Breathe in, out, watch a butterfly alight on a blade a foot away, then fly off again.

Quietly, ever so quietly, two worlds collided once more.

"I was so very very young the first time I came here." Remarked the old woman. "It was nothing more than a little cabin my grandfather had slapped together as a place to lay his head between prospecting jobs. Then I added onto it, and my daughter after me, until you could call it a home in the proper respect. Sometimes I think a place can't be a home until a woman has had her way with it. We just have that power, or at least the drive to fix a place up and make it comforting." She leaned against the fence. "I didn't always live here, but I suppose it was always the place I came back to, no matter how many years or decades spanned in between visits. I suppose that's why I'm here now." She nodded sagely. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

The younger woman smiled. "I could tell the first time I walked in there that it was a place that was well-loved. Was that you?"

"I suppose. Me and many others. Love like that doesn't come from just one person long ago. "

"I love coming here for Easter," trilled the little girl. "Momma and auntie always hid the eggs all over the back garden, even up in the trees! Aiden always had to help me get them, 'cause I'm just a little munchkin. Even when I got older I would look back on those Easters and think that maybe they were the best times of my life."

The current resident of the house nodded. One day, she too would join with the memory of the old house by the highway. It would be nice to have company.

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