Hortensia was standing outside listening to the leaves, it was one of her favourite ways to start the day as it was her way of catching up with all the news. The wind in the leaves told her all kinds of useful things - whether rain was on it's way, what the pace of the day was going to be, if change was likely and sometimes if the wind was strong, even the echo of the news from where the wind had been last.
Today as she stood under the old oak and listened to the leaves stirring and rustling with a sense of joyous freedom - she was grateful for the confirmation of yet another day of late summer sunshine, 'Perhaps I'll go and check up on how the brambles and crab apples are rippening' she thought, 'I'll leave baby Harriet with Archibold and that way I can have a little bit of a wander.'
Hortensia loved a gentle wander, letting her feet take her where they wanted to ramble, she had had all sorts of adventures and felt that she was truly free to be herself when she was out and about on a wander. She set off down a path through the ferns and along by the bank of the stream. As she went she felt such happiness and love for the forest that was their home She had brought a basket with her and as she passed by she started to collect the ripe brambles, a pine cone and some dry grasses What with one thing and another she soon started to feel a little sleepy. 'Perhaps a little sit or perhaps even a lie down - just for a few minutes....' and with that Hortensia spread out her apron on a grassy bank by the stream and found herself gently day dreaming into a most delightful snooze.
The sun sparkled through the green leaves above her head and the music of the stream as it gently passed by made her feel so safe that she fell into a deep sleep. Under her the interwoven roots of the trees were busy with the rhythms of their lives - they seemed like a secret basket under the earth supporting all the life of the forest - Hortensia took great reassurance from the feeling of all that support and found herself thinking that all the gnomes should be living like the trees, each of them their own being yet woven together harmoniously for the greater good.
Hortensia woke up to hear a gentle voice speaking her name, she sat up to see who it was, but couldn't see anything but the golden sunlight all around her, she felt such stillness and peace that she closed her eyes and was sure she heard a gentle voice saying - 'all will be well Little Hortensia, follow your heart and the way will be clear.' Hortensia came to, and thought that she must have been dreaming a most special dream, she had a sense of having been touched by something of great awe and beauty.
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