I tend to call them “pocket parks.” They are green spaces, small parks, places not-so-big that provide opportunities for getting away from the mundane, the stressed out, the routine. Hop on a trail, be it on foot or on a bike, and I quickly understand that my handful of “pocket parks” — you know, they can fit into my back pocket, so to speak — are really pockets of joy.
It doesn’t take long for the cares to become care-free, or even care-less.
And when I roll into this little grove of oaks, well, I get to witness beauty.
Cheers to Pockets of Joy, or Joy Pockets, or Pocket Parks!