With her blankie draped over her shoulder she ran to the opposite side of the yard. Dressed in blue gingham that almost shimmered in the joyous morning sun, her steps were light and quick like a nervous fox. Her laughter mingled with the shouts of the neighborhood kids and her mother’s calls from the window. Away from the swing-set she darted…into the open toward a temperate jungle. The grass, the breeze, and the sounds from the trees made her feel welcome as if the place where she always belonged, unaltered by synthetics and plastic and chemically treated wood where the others stood. Her giggling echoed the bird song overhead and mocked the kids who called her back to play. Towards the woods she ran. With her tiny body partially hidden within the tall grasses she seemed almost like a wild thing reveling in the mysteries of its dynamic home. Only the blankie betrayed her humanness. With one foot on the rough bark of a tree she propelled herself upwards, swung onto a branch, and then yelled back.