It must have been the red jacket she was wearing that first caught my eye. It would have passed for an overcoat if it had been a little longer. It looked to be made of wool and had plain black buttons down the front in the manner of a dress coat possibly made for a child.

Indeed, she looked young wearing such a color and cut of jacket below a face with the complexion of milk on a head adorn with light blond hair that hung to her shoulders out of a gray knit cap.

Her eyes, though I couldn’t quite see their color from where I was standing, looked as though she had seen far more than any child would have had a chance to see. This caused me to wonder if this waif-like creature was an elven maid walking among mortals in this busy city on this winter morning.

I began to notice her more often while waiting for the number sixteen bus from Minneapolis to Saint Paul. I found myself watching for her all winter, and each time I would see her walking, I would congratulate myself for being able to see the magical world that existed in the midst of the mundane one most people see.

As spring drew closer, I noticed one day that she had changed her red jacket for a gray woolen coat that was more of a match for her knit cap. At first, I felt a twinge of disappointment that she would seek a better disguise for her true form, but then I realized I was still able to spot her quite easily. She was as lovely a child-like creature as ever.

Now that the snow is gone and the people of the city have discarded their coats and hats, I saw her again. She seemed transformed into a lovely young woman. I recognized her milky complexion, her corn silk hair, and her eyes.

I felt as though I had watched an elven maid grow up in such a short time, or perhaps this is the transformation they make every spring.