When I was a child visiting my grandparents, tucked in under layers of quilts and the old-fashioned lamp burning a dim tungsten, I would pull out the Brothers Grimm. Nestling in, the book, thick and heavy in my little hands. I would read until I was frightened, startling at the tiniest noise, the clocks ticking loudly.  Wolves and goblins and elves, mischievous and devious, preying on little children.

I was hooked.

Once upon a time there was a little girl whose mother loved her very much. So much, she gave the beloved daughter a cloak made of deep red velvet. She was known by all as Little Red Riding Hood. One day the mother called to Riding Hood and asked her to visit the grandmother who lived deep inside the forest.  She was to take a bottle of cider, bread and fruit to nourish the sick, elderly woman.   Riding Hood’s mother forbid her from wandering, but to stay on the path and not speak to strangers.
But the little girl was full of fancy.  She knew her grandmother would feel so much better if only she had some fresh flowers as well as the food.  Straying from the path for only a few moments, she was sure she’d find a patch of lovelies.She carefully gathered bits of nature in the quiet forest.But lurking in the woods was the evil wolf whose stomach was empty.  Little Red Riding Hood would be just the thing to still the grumbles of his belly.

Was that a noise?
Remembering her mother’s admonishment, Riding Hood began to hurry.
Growing frightened, the little one stopped to look.  The forest was still, but unhappily the girl could feel she was not alone.Spying the wolf, her distress and fear grew. No grandmothers being gobbled, no “my what big teeth you have grandmother”.  Little Riding Hood learned her lesson of wandering through the lonely woods this time.

A huge thanks to my darling models, who also happen to be my kids.  They are always so good to play with me.