I sat down and ate my chicken sandwich that was that type of perfection that only a sandwich in my special little coffee shop could be: the bread was chewy but soft, the chicken was juicy and the aioli added the perfect amount of balance. As I enjoyed my sandwich, I looked out across the street to see my neighbor ride up, finished with a day of work. He hopped off his bike and wheeled it into his apartment. He's the same neighbor that walked with Finn and me down to the flea market on Saturday afternoon and when I realized dogs were not allowed, insisted that he take Finn back so I can go wander around. He's also the same neighbor that came up and disposed of a dead mouse for me when I wasn't as tough as I had thought I was.
As I sipped my coffee and gazed out the window, a regular walked in and smiled a bright smile at me, wishing me a good day. One of the new girls left and said cheerily, "see you tomorrow, lady!" Another barista came in smiled at me as he took his shift behind the counter.
I said goodbye, walked across the street, and as I was walking up the stairs, my other neighbor was opening his door to head out. I called out, "Hi!" He asked me how my day was as usual. Exchanging pleasantries with my neighbors is not unusual. I am lucky. They are all really nice people.
Once inside my apartment this evening, I was struck by the blooming tree outside my living room window. Every spring she blooms these flowers that look like puffs of cotton. And they get bigger and bigger until they eventually become green leaves that shade my apartment slightly from the sun. In the autumn, those bright green leaves turn various shades of orange and crimson, gold and rust. I have watched that tree go through its cycle for five years now and it never stops amazing me. I was completely struck by the moment; that moment of living in this little apartment made so cozy with our wall hangings from our travels, the portrait my friend painted and framed and gifted me from across the country, the beautiful plants that I walk in and find my roommate watering, with neighbors that are thoughtful, courteous, and kind, living across from a cafe that never forgets that I worked there for a brief time a few years ago, a cafe that I love so dearly with people behind the counter that matter to me. People who have become part of my every day. The cafe where I sit and strangers become friends that know who I am and genuinely care to hear the answer when they ask me how I'm doing.
Every January and February, I get the bug. I get the bug to move on; go roaming where there are wider pastures. Usually, the thought is to go back to Portland since I know I love it so dearly and I have amazing friends there, too, creep into my mind. And I honestly don't know where my life will take me. I don't know where I'm headed in the next few months or the next few years. But at least I know that my life here is good.
And I'm really happy to be here in this moment.
