On her head lies a crown of flowers, always in perfect bloom. Her skin glows like the morning sun and her eyes are as deep as the ocean; crashing waves of blue and green. Her hair is gently kissed by the wind and the sun makes her cheeks rosy and warm. If you look closely enough, at the tip of her fingers lies fairy dust. Glistening in the sun it reflects the perfect hues of purple and pink. She walks around with the softest of steps, almost as if she is afraid to disturb the dirt underneath her bare feet. Graciously she takes in the world around her and begins to dream. She takes her fairy dust covered hands and gently kneels down to touch a flower on its last breathe. She marvels as the dust falls off of her fingers and finds a new home on what would once be a dying thing. Before her eyes the flower lifts itself up towards the sun; displaying colours even brighter than its original hue. Joyfully she rushes towards all dying things, wishing them back to life. She watches in bliss as the clouds pass to reveal the warm embrace of the sun, coaxing all things on earth to rise again. Death replaced with life. Darkness now reflecting the twinkle of new beginnings. Everywhere she turns she sees life, hope and purpose.

You see, with fairy dust and a little dreaming her touch opens up another world. As she walks, she dreams of a world many people assume unimaginable. A world where the impossible no longer exists, where roads are lined with hydrangeas and heaven resides in the very oxygen she breathes. She dreams of a world where flowers never wilt, where hate is a forgotten word and promise dwells in the veins of all living things. With all that said, she leaves behind a now prosperous garden and heads toward dry and barren land; anticipating to leave a touch of fairy dust and a little magic wherever she goes.

Photography: Kyle Gallant (http://www.kylegallant.com)