Seasons in the TARDIS

Martha tipped her head back, sighing in delight as the gentle breeze wafted the aroma of wildflowers over her.  She ran her fingers through the grass surrounding, marveling in the rough and crumbly feel of the thick soil at her fingertips.  Her feet kicked lazily in the cool stream running through this vast, lush, and therapeutically beautiful meadow.  As she listened to a chorus of bugs around her she thought to herself, “the Doctor should get lost more often.”


Rose watched the waves crash among the rocks, taking in the salty scent of the foam swirling its way around her as she sat along the shore.  She listened to the birds calling to one another and the roar of the ocean before her; she almost forgot why she hadn’t been to the beach in ages.  As her Doctor sat down beside her the pain of memory flowed back to her like a raging tide, but was quickly overpowered by the elating sensation of new memories being made.  Her world was fine, now and forever.


Donna stood at the entry of the TARDIS, taking in the magnificent colors of the leaves decorating the forest.  The red leaves burnt bright like a bonfire, giving warmth to everything near them.  The yellow leaves shone like the sun, giving energy and good spirit, to those whose attention they grabbed.  The orange leaves invoked feelings of happiness and friendship unto anyone close.  All of them together became the elements of her family, the elements of the Doctor.


Jack stood at the window as the snow fell one sweet January evening.  He felt at peace as he sipped his tea, absorbing the calm from the drink.  He listened to the fire crackling as the flames licked the log, he let his mind wander as he watched its passionate dance.  As he stepped outside to fetch another log for the fire, he looked up at the stars, and was reminded of the enchanting magic that flew among them.  For the rest of the night, his body sat beside the fire, but his mind was flying through the stars in the TARDIS.