Up, up, up the mosaic stairway.

A quick escape to the park on top of the hill just because. A mini adventure (and a chance to work on my morning, er, afternoon pages).

I find a spot on a bench halfway to the top, bust out my journal, and start writing. Freezing and wondering why I decided to write all the way up the hill, but still writing.

The fog rolls in. A five year old is on her way down the stairs and she sees me, and breaks into this huge smile, as if she’s been waiting for me.

“Well, hello!” I say. She looks delighted. Honestly, it’s the biggest, most sincere smile I’ve seen all week. And this kid doesn’t even know me.

“She was asking me what you were doing,” her dad says, holding her hand down the next few steps. “I told her you were annotating.”

I chuckle. She’s still smiling, enthralled. Well here’s someone genuinely happy to see me. And now I’m so happy to see her too. “Byeeeeeeeeee”, she says. And with a wave, she goes on her way.

I knew coming this far out to write was a good idea.