Flights of Fancy

Lost in conversation about the essentials of life last evening in our office,

my Farmer and I

were joined by

our 8 year old daughter's

hopping across the room,

arms flapping 

and an expression

that told us

she was somewhere far away.

 My husband was suddenly jarred from concentration by her movements.

"Violet, please stop being an imbecile,"
he teased.

Violet, as if having been hurled back into consciousness casually proclaimed,

"I'm not being an imbecile.

I'm flying."

Oh, to take wings on the imagination of childhood. 

Participating in the Black and White Photo Party at:

and at:

and

A Southern Daydreamer: Outdoor-Wednesday