The art {of Smiling}

There are places in this world with which our souls naturally connect.

Last night as I flew over the Cascade mountains and the Puget Sound and lots of grey sidewalks and so very many moss-covered trees, my soul was warm and filled. I was smiling with my insides. It was my favorite time of day when the setting sun turns everything gold. The baby next to me was zonked in her exhausted mother's arms. The tan line from my watch was finally fading. My curls turned frizzy and the air turned velvet as we landed.

Over the past several weeks I made friends with lots of strangers. I wore a lot of the same colors. I saw old friends, too. I ate too much and didn't wear sunscreen in the sun.

And we're back where we began, again. Here's to smiling with your insides, inside your favorite places.