Washington D.C., A Love Letter (1-2)

Thoughts

The smell of sweet maple syrup brushes my nostrils. A┬ámolasses-like sip of coffee touches my lips. I am staring out from my screened-in porch at a towering Live Oak who’s Spanish moss drapes like a spontaneous work of modern art.

In the background, Ray Charles is banging on the piano. Cardinals flirt with the introduction to spring.”Y’all” twangs off the tongues of people below me.

And I am home, mostly. Back in the south, near nature and the people I love.

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Spot right next to my new apartment ­čÖé

A couple of years ago, my view couldn’t have been more different. And while I miss D.C. in many ways, there are things that validated┬áthe choices that led me here, as well as the choices I made for my future. But, there are also experiences and emotions that have validated my choice to live there.

When I lived in D.C., a step onto my balcony would amplify the sound of sirens. With a wipe of my finger, I could remove the soot that settled on my plants from the cars below. My view across the street was a busy hospital. My nostrils flared at the smell of car exhaust and rubber.

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