It’s Not All Mary Poppins

Lyrical only goes so far

912snowflakes1“Look, Mary! The moon is out!”

It is in fact the sun, so heavily shrouded by clouds and falling snow that its brilliance is muted to a mellow white glow. It could well be the moon. I start to say as much, but Anna is still talking.

“The moon is my friend. The moon likes me, because I was born on a full moon.”

Anna has obviously heard the story of her birth night many times. It is part of her personal mythology. “I like the moon, and the moon likes me, because I am a moon-girl.”

She is. Pale and fair, though her beauty radiates life; none of the moon’s delicacy. She’s also sun and storm, blustery gale and spring zephyr. All seasons is our lyrical Anna.

“When the moon sees me, it is happy because I am his moon-girl.” And then, in quicksilver Anna style, she tips her face skyward, chin up, rosy cheeks a platform for the falling snow. Until she opens her mouth.

“I’m catching snowflakes with my mouth! I’m eating the snowflakes!”

“What do they taste like?” I ask, curious. What do snowflakes taste like, to this child of moods and passions, romance and myth?

She crinkles her face and grins at me. Grin grows into a smoky-deep chortle, then a full-fledged belly laugh, rising from her very boots.

“They taste like snowflakes, of course!”

January 19, 2009 Posted by | Anna, individuality, the cuteness! | , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments