not my photo
This time of year we need a fall storm to pull the leaves from the trees. This year the people are talking about Sandy.
It will be my first storm in the new apartment. On the second floor of a well contained box a storm was not a fear. On the ground floor of an old house, the kind you have to wear shoes in all the time because the hardwood floor is right on the ground and cold; the kind where they just sealed up a hole in the window, a hurricane is a learning experience. All Hurricanes get compared to “the big one” though and this one is only supposed to bring rain not the wind. I live on high ground, so I’m not worried about the rain other than to walk to work.
The new apartment has been visited by many. I have received plants and gifts and the story tellers came and told stories and sang ballads in the living room. They even set up a skit, that I was part of, without knowing it, about the new house and the girl on a constant quest.
Everything is all set up, there is a sun porch and the days are still warm enough to sit out and write, or share hummus with friends. There are a million windows that let the sunlight in and the kitchen is too cute.
Although I truly believe I live here and don’t wake up in the middle of the night and wonder where I am, I can’t believe how lucky I am to be in a place with such character and charm.
The street I live on is great to walk down and the fall leaves over the hills and on the sidewalk is like walking in an orange candy land.