Tree House

Who would live here?

A wood elf?  An elderly witch?  An enchantress?  A wild child?  A changeling?

Who would live in a gnarly old tree?

___

After a long wait, I see… a girl.  A young woman.  Perhaps a wood nymph.  What is she?  She ducks as she passes under the lintel.  She's a blonde.  Her hair reaches her waist and swishes back and forth with her delicate frame as she pads bare, softly on the exposed roots.

She carries a wooden bucket.  The rope is over her arm, chafing the soft skin in the crook of her arm; but she puts her hand to the bucket, steadying it away from the door post.

The dress loosely shapes to her slender form and folds around her legs, the color matching and blending with the tree.  The hemline brushes the ground but, unevenly cut, revealed her feet as she walked.  She needlessly pinches the skirt with one hand – a graceful, feminine gesture.

She glances around.  It's not in fear or trepidation.  She seems to marvel at her surroundings.  Or maybe she is looking for someone.  With a little jump, she sprints away; off to her right, back behind her tree home –

I've lost sight of her.  Where did she go?

The tree is huge.  Is there more than one level?  Stones have been worked into the tree to create the doorpost.  The door is set into the tree, held in place by two long iron hinges.  No, not iron.  Wood, painted black.  A round knocker is on the door.  There is no visible door latch.  The knocker is wood; it makes a low, heavy thumping when it falls against the door.  No one is home.  …I cannot see her anywhere near.

The door won't push open.

~Meggy

P.S. I checked the source of this photo and the accompanying description is about leprechauns.  Huh, didn't even think of that.