Little girl, sitting in your window seat, sun streaming through eyelet curtains. You dream of love and words and think in colours and scrapbook pages. Never imagined the dark valleys you'd crawl, but never envisioned the beauty you'd find. A phoenix amongst the ashes. You see the world through your lens, framed in shadow and light, bright with promise and colour. Your heart holds the hearts of many, those who've gone before and those you wrap in your arms each night.

Hold tightly, dear hearts, this fragment of time is so crisp and perfect and ever so fast.