In the outback, there is this girl, who wears shirt and yoga pants, and sometimes her jogging shorts. Sports bra beneath, nothing fancy with those pinkish, lacey, stringy and tiny intimate.

She is a person who understands marketing as a verb to go to the market for groceries.

In her, failing in every business sense of way.

A tote bag in hand, it says, “refuse plastic, save our earth.” With a green sea turtle on it.

By any chance, by a huge leap of faith, an unwavering faith, you dare to wager, you reckon this girl to be a vegetarian or a tree hugger. An independent soul nevertheless, how much misfit she is in this society of economic progress.

Progress, to her, mind you, she is just a girl, is about love, about bringing love to everyone around. Bounding in earth, naked feet and flower wreath.

Daffodils, tulips and primroses.

She prances in those tall grasses, in cream white dress, which she wears every once in a while, in the good days she feels like dolling up.

She smiles, the sun shines through the leaves, new shoots of leaves. Tender, like her fingers, with nails trim short, au naturel.

She skips her appointment in the city, just so she could spend more time in nature. Her backyard is her world: squirrels, goose, duck, herons, kingfisher, salmon, sturgeon. Her list of sightings continue on.

Spring, summer, autumn winter.

Regardless, she’ll be out. Those good days, in her cream white dress and other sundresses.

More often though, you’ll see her in overalls and boots, or shirt and sport pants. This is the way she is. This girl, nibbling a cookie straight from the oven, even with her dirt-covered hand.

There’s nothing to do about her, she is just a girl.

You know what I’m saying when you meet her. The sun shines through the leaves and she smiles like she always does.