The woods are huge. We can barely scratch the surface.

Jessie stands,

four feet tall,

  in a bright blue coat and purple leggings.

She's about eight now, I think.

The pine needles and branches crunch beneath our feet.

A mist moistens our hairlines

 and a damp cold tickles our fingertips.

Stopping, I see her.

A blonde little girl in pigtails

  taking on everything in front of her.