The two girls balanced themselves carefully on the soft, mossy rocks, basking in the warmth of the sun's honey kissed rays. The air was warm but hidden in it's breeze was the last bit of winter, hoping to catch just one more gust. They sat there for hours, the girls, breathing in the earth as it defrosted.
The trees were tall, as only old trees with hundreds of years behind them can be. Their broad, flat leaves danced in the wind to songs that only little girls and fireflies could hear.
It was easy, then, to dream of nothing and everything, all at the same time. To gaze into the tree tops and believe in freedom and faith, even if they didn't yet know what those words meant.
It was easy to appreciate the way the light filtered through the leaves, casting shadows on the hill and how it turned their skin green when the light hit them just right.
And it was easy, then, to know the meaning of friendship and that sometimes, silence can tell you all you need to know.
Trust, love, and gratitude were words that the river taught them, babbling softly to the pebbles as the water drifted by.
And if the world was moving, they certainly did not know it.