Missy Mouse Meets Thom Elf

All In A Day

There was no advantage to ponder the next step. One day it came swift like a fluke of fortune pouring from a magic box when its lid flew ajar. Happenchance might not be per chance, but with purposeful intent and soon you will know through visions of “once upon a time.”
There was a young woman who triflingly courted memories of one thing or another. Thinking, daydreaming; stopping everything that needed attention, her daydreaming was to ask the question; was it true that all at Lake Harriet in Linden Hills lived happily ever after?
An unusual circumstance persisted; passionate feelings toward nature’s abundance and goodness were not accidental. When sunrise accented, some sort of energy propelled her against resistance of being contained within the house. Through an open window, springtime air, by virtue of its potency, drew her to where trees were leafing, flowers were budding, and where people, who were compelled the same as her were gathered. She had spent winter days in the house. Temptation overcame her. She left every “must do,” unlatched the door, and entered into a place of solitude. She went for a walk!
Warm breezes passed over her face like a whiff of pure splendor. Obliterating thoughts of customary obligations for family, career, and extra activities, she looked toward the sky at the treetops and then down upon the cemented walkway where she stepped. What contradiction was this to stifle growth of grass and natural vegetations beneath an overlay of hardened man-made concrete, when above, the treetops beckoned release from all sense of duty with their swaying branches and green seedling leaves? Steadied and protected from the ground’s unevenness; stone like material had a purpose, she supposed. Approaching the fenced gateway, bright color crimson and gold ignited the sky like flames of fire on the horizon. The sun’s rays were burning the morning dew and with it, thoughts of responsibilities dissipated.
Walking where nature dictated tranquility, soon she was distanced from pending concerns. And unlike happenchance, calculated and intentional; her point of full departure was around the bend.
Forty Second Street, located at the intersection of Broadway and Time’s Square in New York City and the topic for Forty Second Street, the movie, which told of its theaters; in Linden Hills, Forty Second Street, she knew, had not much to do about anything; no hoopla, no recognition, but led her to enchantments of many possibilities. Well, maybe, the idea of escape to the lake, with trees and flowers, birds, little ground animals, and baby fish swimming at the shoreline, fantasy thoughts took over. She stopped at a steep decline where the street and the golden sunrise met on Forty Second Street. The water and charm of sail boats and painted buildings and more trees and flowers was a place of transformation. She became one with nature. If she hurried, she’d be at the water’s edge in a blink. Aware that those sensations of exhilaration were not hers alone, but stupendous persons existed at Lake Harriet in Linden Hills and they walked and ran by her.
Walk, walking, sunbeams burst as crystalline upon the lake; all things that required her concentration and focus had been left back there.