7 November 2024 – I walk along, getting some early-morning daylight into my system. I see that, even this late in the season, some leaves are still putting on a bravura show.

Then I look up. Up a bare tree trunk, all the way up, up & out over the street.

I see what no-leaves can do.

I stare at it in absolute delight. I narrow my eyes. Do an imaginary zoom for tighter focus.

It’s the dance of the fractals, isn’t it? Right there above my tip-tilted head. Some time does pass, before I lower my gaze.

Only to see a little girl, staring at me with the same intensity I have just given to those tree branches. It is a child’s stare — curious, open, honest, without malice. But still a little unnerving.

“Hello,” I say, “I like the monster on your coat.” (A happy monster in minimalist design, all bright eyes and friendly fangs, if you can picture it.) She giggles. “I like him too.” Her waiting mum leans back against the car, reassured about the way this bit of sidewalk interaction is progressing.

“My coat has pockets,” says the child, patting one for emphasis.

“Mine too!” I cry, patting mine as well. “I like pockets. You can put stuff in them.”

She nods. “And,” she adds — clearly a parting comment, mum is opening the car door — “and, when it’s cold, you can put your hands in your pockets too!”

With that, we go our separate ways, she to day-care and I to Dude Chilling Park, Sahalli Park and points all around.

(Please note: my coat pockets now contain gloves.)