Yes, it is astounding, Miss Blue, that you have identified me after all these years, intuitive as you are. Many years ago, when the forests were young and heavy with succulent plants and smells, I was born. And I have lived on in many forms and always surrounded with the poppies and pomegranates, milkweed and dandelions; handy stuff for the nymph way. Miss Blue, you say you were once a French Monk given to good deeds so that impecunious folk could be helped in their impecuniousness. The story makes perfect sense and I am thankful that all is said at last. And now I must comment on the boy Toby and his brilliant companion Cat Toffee. Of course, laughter comes with the dance... fingers and paws stretching and feet tapping out the tune. I think of the Cheshire cat just lolling and leering on Alice's page, never to know the laughter and the dance. But I digress. Returning to the Wood Nymph and the French Monk, I  agree with your story. How True to the Bone. Further comments about other things and such, at another date. Until then I remain,

Pearl, WN