It was warm last night, and air-conditioning isn’t commonplace. I heard and was awoken by the first thunderstorm I’ve experienced in the two weeks I’ve lived here. There was the familiar flash that I first mistook as photography, and the audible return of that visible call. The sound wasn’t a sharp crack, but a low, throaty, resounding rumble that rolled around the landscape; and in my half-asleep state, I found that impactful and insightful. It made me feel like I’m somewhere much different than I’ve ever been. And that’s true. It’s true like when people told me it’s a rainforest, but I didn’t really grasp that concept until I rolled into a free campground to save money on a cross-country road trip over here. As I was setting up our four-person tent for the two of us, every single leaf had water droplets. Every patch of dirt was moist. And bird calls I’ve never heard before resounded through this overly-dense forest. I felt like I was in a zoo micro-habitat. Bio-Dome.
For the past year, I’ve lived in a closet-sized apartment in Venice on the third floor, and despite my desire to container-grow, there was literally no space for that. Before that, in another apartment complex with no yard or dedicated space outside of walls or windows. After living in Los Angeles for four years, I briefly returned to Mississippi, which is fabled for its growing potential, but ACL surgery rendered me resigned to inactivity and the only thing that grew was my wanderlust. Now I am finally in a proper apartment that I plan on staying in for the indefinite future, in The Rainy City of the Northwest. My concerns that container-gardening would be impossible because of the lack of Sun have been quieted upon local enquiry. And that vital Sunlight is what was on my mind as I woke up beneath a blanket of damp humidity. That door needed to be opened. Those seeds needed the warmth like I needed my coffee. I staggered to stand and stumbled to the door.
And the world’s awake. And it’s cooler with the breeze through the door. And there’s a view of the Olympics. And the place I’m living is no longer sixty squared feet. And life ain’t bad. Nah, life ain’t bad.
In many years...
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