Goodbye Blue Skies, Hello Cloud Cover

Less than two days left here in this beautiful little town that has been home for the past year. Funny to think that I fought my parents about coming here, all those years ago. Why didn’t I want to come? Simply because when I came to picnic day circa 2003,it rained. My mom made the mistake of telling me that one year during her and my dad’s undergrad experience here, it rained for a month straight. Now, I don’t know if I can fully articulate just how much I love the sun. I would rather have snow + sun than clouds + temperate weather most any day.

And yet. And yet I am moving to one of the cloudiest, rainiest cities in the country. It’s not where I would’ve picked, if I just dropped a pin on a map and said, “I’m going here”, but I think it will be good. I mean, it took me years to get over the way I felt about this place, and now I am sad to be leaving. I will miss the restaurants and local haunts. For me, probably what I will miss most is the arboretum. I went to go say goodbye to it this morning, walking the entire thing so that I would appreciate it more. I discovered this really awesome sculpture from an oak tree that had been cut down, winding through the far end of the arboretum. It made me wish I had a camera. It made me wish that I took my liking to photography more seriously, so that I would have something fantastic to take away from that little encounter. The pathway was fairly deserted, though older couples sat on benches or rode their bikes by me a few times. I walked by places where I remember having significant conversations with people. Like the time when we exchanged “what-ifs” sitting in a tree, and later a very different conversation of, “what happened?” while sitting on the grass. There were conversations with others, generally consisting of “Remember when this happened?”, “What do you think will happen?”, and “What is happening right now?”

My past snuck up on me as I passed it by, and said goodbye.  Goodbye to this place with its bittersweet memories, broken dreams and lost hopes. Goodbye to the friends I have made, the conversations I have had, and the kitties that have made our townhouse truly feel like home. It’s time to let another city impress me and defy my expectations. To meet new people and learn to love a new place. It’s time to say hello to something new, and find a new place where I will one day walk through and remember the way I used to feel–the way I felt when I moved in here–before I knew that this is exactly where I needed to be.