Ah, Violetta. The quintessential free spirit. A woman who has kept the girl inside of her alive. She sleeps under the stars and wakes in the meadow surrounded by fawns and black-eyed Susan which she weaves into headdresses and gowns. She rises smiling, wishes on dandelions, and swears she can hear Van Morrison singing what she likes to call “morning music”. She is exuberant and her spirit irrepressible. She doesn’t run, she skips. Animals eat from her hand and birds light in her hair. She hikes through waist high flowers until she reaches her favorite stream and naturally, swims naked. She contemplates the wonder of being alive, and quietly observes the immensity and staggering beauty of nature. She experiences moments that she never wants to end and is overwhelmed with gratitude. She believes in the good. She isn’t afraid, ever. She just is.