It felt like the end of Prince Caspian. I had had a wonderful time in Europe with my brothers, whom I hadn't seen in ages, and with the family I lived with in France for a year as a teenager.
Now I was alone at the Zurich airport, with many hours to go before my flight, and unwieldy pink suitcase to lug around.
After much debate on whether it was worth it to lug the suitcase back into Zurich to more exploring on my own, I spotted what looked like a path leading up to a bench on the hill. The path was paved and accesible. I set out.
The first time I was there, I jumped over some nettles, into a little green natural chapel, where I spent some time in prayer and reflection. I also asked for and found some alpine strawberries.
Eventually I meandered back down. Later, at supper time, I wandered up again, wanting to have a picnic supper at the top. This time I took the left fork of the trail. I was delighted to find some large boulders clustered around, and spent several minutes jumping from one to another in delight, before settling down to a picnic of gluten free bread and cheese.
Finished, I attempted to sketch my favourite rock from above, in memory of these small delights that day.
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