The humid summer air, with it’s traces of fresh water and wildflowers, had always been my favorite. It was especially fragrant here, in the field of golden grass I often visited.
Even as I sat on the thick quilt I had brought along, I longed for the feel of the grass beneath my feet. Rummaging through my bag, I pulled out a cherry-almond croissant I had saved from my bakery.
After all the years, it was still up and running. The new management was a feisty girl named Kiara, whose pastry experiments often turned out incredible.
This place had once been secret, but as I watched the children laugh and play, I couldn’t bring myself to regret sharing this place with them.
A piece of the purest happiness I had ever experienced, countless memories full of it—all of which were made here.
There were six of them, three boys and three girls, darting through the grass with earsplitting grins on their faces. Some were missing a few baby teeth; others were c