When I was small and my mother took me for walks she would often pick a flower to put in my hair. I always loved flowers in my hair. When I was older I would pick the flowers myself, sometimes slipping one or two above my ear interwoven in the dark stands of my beautiful long hair, sometimes wearing a wreath of daisies tightly plaited together. I regret that I'm too old for flowers in my hair now. They were a symbol of youthful freedom. A symbol of the time when my soul was wild and there was real joy in living. I was a true flower child - my spirit danced and I was free.