As I drive to our apartment each day up the main boulevard it is encompassed by a canopy of green. It is peace-inducing and reminds me why I love a climate with four seasons.
Just a month ago, these same trees were brown and gnarly, beaten by winter’s cold ice they looked aged and done.
But then the grass turned from puddles of mud to lush green and the neighborhood brought out their lawn mowers and cut the grass bringing the potential of a summer of legs sticky with sweat and foreheads creased to see beyond the sun’s glare.
Kyle, my husband, is in school to become a physical therapist which fortunately is a very high demand job at the moment. There are job opportunities everywhere and so we like to discuss where we will go once school is done.
My desires revolve largely around land features and climate.
I long for mountains, sunshine, oceans, lakes, a short winter, warm rain showers, wide open spaces, a town with a Target and a Gap but not so spread apart that I can’t go to both in the same day, free parking downtown (i.e. not a city), oh and if family could be there that would be great too!
It is fun to lay in bed each night and bring up potential places where we will sink our family roots and make a home. But turns out I am incredibly picky. I want to will the weather to bend to my needs. Seattle was too gray, Arizona would be too hot, and the coast has the potential to drown me when the tides overcome the earth (this is a legitimate fear of mine).
I want sunshine but I also want the changing seasons, the physical earth sending us signs that change is always occuring causing us to learn flexibility. But oh how I dread the winter months.
Give me a week of snow and then I am done. Send it away to the mountains, but not too far away.
Don’t even get me started on my need for falling golden leaves carried by the wind and the crunch of them beneath my feet.
I have this desire to try so many different states and towns and places to find where my heart will make its home. It feels like an adventure waiting to happen.