Who am I?

This is the girl with hair of fire.
The girl with the love of all things.
Who you will see running through the woods.
Flowers in her hand.
The girl who feels the notes of music.
A feeling of comfort.
Soaking up the beat.
Soaking up the sun.
The girl who lays on the beach.
Smelling the sea.
Or maybe floating off the coast.
Wrapped in the ocean.
The girl with marshmellow in her hair.
Dirt on her hands.
Kneeling in the weeds.
Tomatoes spilling from her pockets.
The girl who loves being first.
As much as she loves being last.
The girl with the highest stack of pancakes.
With a dislike of any maple syrup not from the green mountains.
The rolling hills.
The sprawling fields.
The girl with her face against the window.
Counting the cows.
Counting the trees.
The girl sitting next to you.
Who you will often see raise her hand.
Confident.
The girl with the smile.
Who loves her school.
And her friends.
The girl with the skis.
Skiing past you.
Or with you.
Or behind you.
She doesn’t care.
She loves to try.
The feeling of accomplishment.
A thing as close to her as her friends.
Laughing with her in the lunchroom.
Or the classroom.
On the ski hill.
Or the trail.
Till they have tears in their eyes.
The girl who loves the rain.
The feeling of warm water running down her face.
The girl who never regrets the failures.
Only the times she didn’t try.
For her greatest fear is not jumping.
Flying.
Skiing.
Running.
Learning.
Growing.
The girl with the freckles on her face.
The girl with the love of all things.