meet me
on the west coast
in the salt air
breathe slow
go out to the unknown
we'll make it our own
meet me
on the west coast
we'll make it our own
On a Wednesday morning in August, we hopped in the car and started driving west. Perhaps because we had already been living out of our suitcases for months, or perhaps because so much of life felt overshadowed by the loss of my grandpa six weeks earlier, our departure that morning felt like no big deal.
But it is a big deal. We'd been considering the move for a few years, and somewhere on our wanders around the globe this year, we decided. And so far, it feels so right.
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In one month, we managed to find jobs and a sweet little apartment in Gastown. I'm so glad we brought our bikes with us, even before most of our other belongings. My bike ride to work winds along the waterfront at False Creek, and I can't help but smile as I cruise past rows of sailboats, and under the Cambie Street bridge. I've yet to experience a time where I've ventured out on my bike and haven't received a comment on my bike's basket - it's the shape and colour of a slice of watermelon, and my mom got it for me. We have a patio that's lined with trees and our building has a cake shop on the main floor. The ocean is a block away.
Life is good.
Stacy, we are only 40 minutes away. pm me and I can give you my phone number. It's so nice to read your blog and feel your joy - thank you.
ReplyDeleteLove, Aunty