" Soft moonlight enveloped her path, guiding her toward the gate like creamy white petals leading a bride to the altar. Walter didn't understand- she needed to be in these gardens. The beauty breathed life into her. Filled her very soul.
She pushed down the latch, testing it slowly to see if it was locked on the opposite side. Her heart leapt when it opened.
The lady left her gardens every autumn now when the flowers began to die, and Mummy didn't seem to care if she visited the gardens when the lady was gone. But in the summer, when the flowers were blooming, when the air smelled sweet and the butterflies danced in the breeze, Mummy and Walter didn't want her to explore.
Yet this was her sustenance. Her magic. She needed to be here as much as the butterflies needed their nectar to fly.
Quietly she closed the gate and hurried across the brick path until she reached the circular rose garden. In the center of the roses was the most lush carpet of grass. She tossed her shoes into the air, the soft grass tickling her toes. Then she stretched out her arms and twirled in the moonlight.
Some people thought the rays of the moon were cool, like the rays of the sun were warm, but they were wrong. The light from the moon was as warm as the sun, a lovely, golden warmth that electrified her from the inside. "

― Melanie Dobson , Shadows of Ladenbrooke Manor