Aug 31, 2016
I often invent little errands for
myself so I can SEE. See something – that’s my aim but somewhere down deep I
must know I will also feel something, and then I will begin writing in my head, and I will
remember why I am so lucky.
And without fail it happened on a
short walk to mail letters in Cabbagetown this morning.
I dropped Leo off at
his new school and then hoofed it a few streets over to the mailbox on
Boulevard in front of the Southwestern restaurant. Not knowing what I would
see, only knowing I love the Cabbagetown neighborhood, and honestly I think I love it twice as
much now as I did this morning.
I took a chance on seeking
to enroll him at the C-town campus, only later remembering that one of my small
Atlanta to-dos was walking around Cabbagetown more, like I did when we first
moved back. Walking around Cabbagetown makes me think Atlanta is cool. It’s why
we came back, even if much of our life is away from the kookiness of that tiny
neighborhood to the north of us.
So what did I see? Just the usual:
morning glories crawling up the utility pole, old corner grocery stores attached to
homes and re-purposed as artist nooks, lightbulbs strung on decks and across
driveways to create ambiance, flower boxes everywhere to the point of
obscuring the homes behind them, a front lawn given over entirely to sunflowers
as tall as the one-story house’s roof, a workman moving a large cement block who asks me, “Are you having fun yet?”
No two houses the same, but every
house working its little heart out to tell you its story, and there is a story. Each porch beckons you – sit down, read
a book, enjoy a cup of tea.
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