Spring came and I missed out on your delicate pink blossoms, which light wind would often play with, filling my heart with the warmth of long ago memories. I have missed the sounds of crickets and frogs at night, as I had often snuck out during long spring evenings just to feel cool refreshing air in the eve by your pond's waters. It was easy enough to forget about you and the memories we shared when something new and different had entered my life by springs end, a new love which was so much more complicated, more real, humanoid and physical , yet it could not keep your memories at bay. The love of a man has kept me here, the only thing holding onto my spirit is now his presence, fore you had been forced from me now six months hence, and with this man came peace. A peace which I had not felt in months since losing your warm comforting grasp on my childhood, my home, engulfing me in a sweet world in which only I was present. Oh how now I need you more than ever before, losing myself as I have lost you, surrounded by new territory experiencing new things which before seemed so distant. Not being able to speak your presence, my nirvana, the only place I wanted to be was on your ground. My childhood memories rave about how in time I would reside at your manor, giving new life and memories to the children that I knew would someday call that place home, as I had so many years before, you would give so many new memories to me in the future as you did in the past.

Summer is almost at an end, I remember the time would always be exciting for me as foxes played in your high grass, (now straw yellow and expelled of all colour as the waning sun rose higher) at all times of the day and evening. Falling asleep anywhere that would embrace the liquid gold rays of sun onto my skin, that silent pleasure which now makes me want to scream out with such burning desire. Lazy summer days give rise to the most amazing time of the year, Autumn. My first Autumn without spending it with you, your magnificent green trees so full of plumage in the heat of summer now fall, golden and burning with flame. It is always my favorite time on the year, watching the frost dismantle the last of your flowers, death yet also the start and beginning process of a new transformation. My pond's water would turn from algae infested green to that murky brown which still chills my bone with wonder, lust and love, it would grow cold within the night. Clouds would appear and I would give my heart to the last of the geese as they began their journey southward, only unlike me to return when spring came again. I have bared through summer, the only way I know how. Enjoying life's moments however they are perceived they all join together to create the individual in the end.

If it is true that as one door closes another opens then I hope that the next door to open will continue to surprise me, for life is best lived spent enjoying memories and creating new ones, and although at times I feel like Scarlett having lost my Tara I know that life goes on, and so must I.