Lying on the sofa, behind the window, I'm drowsy. The sky this blue steel features typical of the times of big freeze. I try to sleep between the rustling of newspapers from my beaver and the snoring of my father. I observe, in one eye, the tits that hopping between the bare branches of hazel, the home of birds, the skeletons of frosted leaves and the beginnings of buds. I feel the sun on my hair and my shoulders.
I trust, I do not know why. So I'm just doubting, suddenly, I trust, I know I'm finally on the right path.
In a few months, I will celebrate my 4x10 years. I think more and more often to this little girl of 10 years, I've never felt so close to her: a little dizzy, dreamy but confident, serene, brave, adventurous, open the eyes of others, I would
like the hand we will get there, at our own pace on our byways, the sound of blackbirds and robins, nose in the trees, frolicking like squirrels ... mischievous.
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