The harvest moon beckoned. Squirrel Girl could not resist. She threw on a sweater, which was not quite polyester and not quite wool, but a blend of wool and polyester. Her life was like the sweater that was a blend of this and that, and she was fine with it.

The moon was huge but not quite full. It almost looked like a chunk of cheese that was bitten off slightly at the edges by a mouse that was eager to get a taste of it. The allure of the moon was too powerful for Squirrel Girl. It was always like that for her since she was a wee little Squirrel Girl who believed that the moon followed her like a friend.

The moon appeared to say, “You are not alone, I am watching you and will light your path of darkness.”

The moon may have wondered why Squirrel Girl chose to walk the dark nights. The night was full of shadows that tricked the eyes. It was both mysterious and fearsome. Thus, it was a comfort to Girl that the moon watched over her. When she first encountered the fox that looked pensive, Squirrel Girl thought it was merely a shadow and became shocked when it moved. Luckily, the fox was not interested in Squirrel Girl. It was listening to the bird above on a tree. Was it an owl? The fox must have been disappointed that the bird was out of its reach. So many things in life were out of reach. Did the fox yearn for that it could not obtain? The fox looked at its “object d’art” but walked away—seemingly—without desire and without a sound. The creatures of the night were like that—eerily silent. They knew how to merge with the night. And to Squirrel Girl’s surprise, she found herself becoming silent as well. It was not in fear of awakening the sleepers. Girl was attempting to listen to the night that was fully conscious.

As she looked upon the moon and stars, Wind found her listening. It swirled around her like an embrace. Wind carried scents that were different from the ones of summer lights and the sprays of the ocean. Wind felt sharper too as if it had been roaming the snowy alps.

“I found you Squirrel Girl …,” whispered Wind, “and you have left your beloved garden.”

What joy it was for Girl to feel Wind blow around her. Yes, she had changed her abode. How she had lingered as she said her goodbyes to the garden of Jane.

Squirrel Girl whispered sadly as she left the gate of the garden, “I will miss you dear garden …”

It is best not to look back, yet the past left behind was full of “loves.” Girl would have stayed there forever if she could. Yet, Wind blew and spoke of change. Wind nudged her, and It was time for Girl to depart.  Girl had to follow whichever way Wind blew. Wind had turned her into a vagabond. Even the sparrows had a place to lay their weary heads, yet Squirrel Girl had miles to traverse and no one could tell when her journey would end. And so, instead of the garden where Girl had sat and listened to her bees, she walked the nights and listened to tall trees that swooshed as Wind blew around them. She also heard the coyote that cried within the woods. There was slight trembling as the woods rumbled like a groan.

Thankfully, Wind spoke, “No need to fear little one … I am here for you—always.”

How easily Wind banished the fears. Within the night, there were two kinds of shadows, and Wind protected her from the kind that haunted men. The rest of the shadows were mere “changelings.” They played with you and made you believe you were seeing goblins of the night. It was these changelings that seduced Squirrel Girl into joining the night. Some nights, Girl joined them and danced under the moon.

“Squirrel Girl, it is almost the witching hour … before you change into something other than Squirrel Girl, you should go indoors,” advised Wind.

“I cannot … I miss the garden so much. How is the garden? Is the moon shining over the garden as well? No more bees to be seen?”

The bees were rather arrogant at times. Indeed, they were not grateful when Squirrel Girl tried lifting the tall stalks of flowers that appeared as if fainted, like the ladies of waiting, but it was only the rainstorm that had caused them to drop. They did not suffer the dehydration as Girl had done. As Squirrel Girl tried saving the flowers that fed the bees, the bees harassed her and nosily buzzed within her long hair. Yet, she did not take their traitorous anger seriously. She just ran out to the street attempting to have Wind blow them away from her hair. Besides, Girl was able to wave at the neighbors who smiled at her while the bees were embedded in her hair. The yellow bees looked quite pretty in her dark hair. They became her angry ornaments.

The neighborhood had never seen Squirrel Girl in the past, which piqued their interests. She was so foreign, yet her playfulness amused them. Each morning, the neighborhood saw Girl carrying her coffee cup and waving her hand at everyone as she walked. They waved back and smiled.

Feeling the longing, Squirrel Girl asked Wind, “And the tree, did the tree that was draped with light bugs change its attire into something different now?”

The first time, she witnessed the lit tree in the garden was when Squirrel Girl had come home late. There were no lights that lit the garden except for the stars, but the tree was alight like a Christmas tree. The lights sparkled like tiny diamonds on the tree. It was the most glorious attire a tree could hope to wear. Even when the mosquitoes were feasting on Squirrel Girl’s legs, she watched entranced by the sparkling tree. She sacrificed her legs for beauty’s sake. Life was like that, it required sacrifice for that which you loved. Besides, someone had to feed the bugs. They appeared to relish on Squirrel Girl’s blood.

The lit tree was like observing an orchestra of lights. Amidst night mingled with dreams, magic happened. The garden was no ordinary place.  It turned into a world of enchantment that was not thought to be possible. It was the kind of garden that could make anything possible.

Wind swirled and spoke, “The garden is changed now. The chipmunks are busier readying for winter, and the tree has dressed itself a new attire that is an array of colors. The garden misses your presence.”

Laughing softly Girl said, “Surely not the chipmunks. I had disturbed their territory that they believed was solely theirs.”

“Yet, you have left an impression, which cannot be erased. The garden being a timeless place, your presence will be etched there forever.”

Happily, Squirrel Girl replied, “Thank you Wind. My heart has never left the garden and I know you will always report to me how it is in the garden.”

In agreement, Wind blew Girl’s hair like a kiss, and Squirrel Girl was no longer full of longing for the garden. Girl understood that she had never truly left it. She knew that she will always be found in the garden, under the tree, and listening to the bees waiting for “that” which she knew not.