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Staying happily in a cool stream. On this particular day, she decided to visit her favorite

pomegranate tree. It had a spindly little trunk covered in the thick brown bark and skinny

little branches sticking out on all sides. More than once, the tree caught Persephone's

clothing when she reached in to pick a pomegranate. But she never grew frustrated when she got

tangled up as that was just the nature of trees. Instead, she pulled her dress free and continued

her quest for the sumptuous fruit. Persephone loved the taste of pomegranate. In fact, she loved

the taste of all fruit. She supposed that it might be because her mother was Demeter,

Goddess of the Harvest. Persephone knew how it sounded when she told the other children

her mother was a goddess. But to her, it wasn't strange. The immortal life, complete with

lightning bolts and ambrosia, was just another day for her. As Goddess of the Harvest, Demeter

was the one who watched over all that grew. She kept many kinds of trees, along with tall,

willowy grains and plenty of finds which snaked across the ground. Persephone loved this verdant

life. All chids and fields were as normal to the girl as the hands on a clock.

But along with abundance, she also knew scarcity. All things that grow must stop growing.

All things that flower must also close and sleep so they may bud and new.

She understood that in order to thrive, her mother's plants sprouted from seedlings and grew tall

and strong as the months progressed. Then they bore fruit and flowers and finally settled down

...