Lulu was a little girl who lived many places. Many of them were made more of concrete and brick, rather than of forests and trees. But, lulu loved all things wild and natural, like something within herself. No matter where she lived, she would always find a place in nature to be - her own private garden. Whether a "stream" through a culvert or an orchard full of cherries. She would often be chastised for wanderingoff skinny dipping, or sneaking off to someones garden with a salt shaker, or riding her bike for way too long or way too far. The people around her called her Pamela. But, the others, those with the silver hair called her "lulu".
For many years, I lost track of her. A few years ago, I started digging in the dirt and began to hear the whispers of those with the silver hair drawing near. I see her, too sometimes - giggling, as she pulls a radish from the dirt, and pops it right in her mouth. And, catching me watching, she tiptoes impishly to me and whispers "welcome home".