Stone Circle there's always just a little more left

for dad! @Ethan

The weather was starting to turn. For Mya, it was still a novel experience, even if she already had an autumn under her belt. She'd been so young back then, and although she could faintly recall the excitement of the new smells and falling leaves, it was just as breathtaking to her this time around. She wondered if she would ever tire of it, or if the passing of the seasons was a purposeful thing crafted by some unseen, unknown maker. If it was there, perhaps, to entertain all the little creatures on earth. To keep life new and interesting and beautiful.

Mya knew, intellectually, that her father was not much older than she was. That he'd only seen the passing of the seasons a scant two or three times more than she had. In her mind, however, he was very much older than her, and very much wiser, and so she sought him today to ask.

The leaves fell around her like new snow as she wandered the forest of spindly, quaking aspen trees. She was staring up at them in wonder as she walked, and so failed to see the tree right in front of her until she bumped nose-first into the scratchy black-pocked bark. When she reeled back at stare in silent accusation at the tree, it was to see a perfect imprint of her nose on the white trunk.

"That hurt," she told the tree, but a fit of laughter threatened to take her over, and she couldn't stay angry at it too much longer. "I'm sorry," she said humbly, "I wasn't watching where I was going. Have you seen my father around, Mister Tree?"

The tree, of course, did not answer.