I am both the adult and the child.

Thank goodness there is yoga today.

Something about the thin leafless pines, blackened by fire, and the way they stick out of the mountain top in the fog.

No chainsaws this morning.

Baked maple-glazed donut. Masala chai latte. Bright light. Very Instagramable.

Mostly, on these walks, I remember that I’m not alone.

Satisfied.

“What do you do in detention?” “I don’t know. I’ve never had one.”

What is this feeling? Warm fuzzies? Also nerves. But, maybe, the start of belonging.

Rethinking.