The hills of Sabinar were dotted with flowers. A songbird’s tilting melody drifted on the breeze. The skies were clear on the horizon, and the grass was springy and soft. But not as soft as the love between Tembi and Abi.
A bunny hopped over roots of a maple tree. Mushrooms could be found along the gravel road curving up the sloping hillside. The sweet scent of lavender filled the air, and the sunshine was gentle and warm. But not as warm as the love between Tembi and Abi.
The little cottage on the hill was homely and inviting. A blueberry pie was in the oven and piles of handmade quilts lay on the sofa. The abode was every bit as cozy as the surrounding landscape but make no mistake; it was the outside that was modeled after the inside, not the other way around. For it was an enchantment that had transformed the terrain to reflect the cottage’s inhabitants.
The transformation of the landscape happens gradually, taking hold and strengthening the longer one lives there and settles into their home. Sabinar has undergone many changes throughout its time. In years past, the cottage has been a bungalow in a wild and untamed jungle, a tower teetering on the edge of a sharp and imposing cliffside, and a villa planted alongside a neat and orderly orchard. Once, and only once, it became a hovel sinking in a bog of decay and rot.
Now it was Tembi and Abi who lived in the cottage, and springtime had arrived. The woodlands surged with life as the plants and foliage flourished. Chipmunks scampered between the shrubbery and bees floated among the flowers. Clusters of giant leaves sprung from the soil. The branches of the great oak tree twisted and curled as the wood wove together in intricate patterns, interlocking in a close embrace.
But not as close as the love between Tembi and Abi.