Bittersweet.

  The sun is soft, the air is sharp. There's comfort in grey skies. Rain patters on so steadily. Days slip before our eyes. Now here we are untouched. While autumn steals all that we know. Yet unlike flowers, through the seasons, we may live to grow.

— Ellis Nightingale

  She walks the earth freely, yet her
feet never touch the ground. Many
hands will reach for her, but she
cannot be anchored. She belongs
to no one, to nothing, to nowhere.

When you meet her, you will
recognise her for who she is a free
spirit, a wandering star. She will
fit in your arms like she was made to be
there. And she will show you what it
means to hold something you can
never hold on to.