looking south

I work in a corporate mouse maze. Five buildings, one two story, all attached by windowed corridors. I don't know whose genius idea or what ridiculous study was consulted, but everything is grey—cubes, walls, carpet. But there is a quad with a little fountain. And my secret spot.

Every day at 10 and 2, I leap from my chair and walk at a break neck clip through all five buildings and the quad. It's my way of rejuvenating. Not just the walk but the interaction. I get to smile at people who only know me as the girl who runs through the halls. I feel lucky that most people I see respond with such warm hellos and smiles.

Some days I need an extra walk. Like today. I'm nervous and excited and freaked out and scared and thrilled. And there are fantastic clouds putting on a show in my secret spot.

On the second floor there is a giant window that spans the whole south side of the building. It's right above the receptionist and it's an atrium so the light is always stunning. There is a half wall banister that hides two forgotten comfy chairs. When you drop into them, you're facing the south and the spectacle of sky—AND no one can see you. You are completely hidden.

When I need a moment, I run the building and drop into one of those chairs and watch the south sky. On days like today, it's not just a spot for me to gather my thoughts, but the atmosphere is so incredibly complicated and active you just can't look away. It's a wonderful place for daydreams and today, my imagination is joining the sky in its tumultuous display.