I am currently sitting on my balcony, that I just swept off, for the first time since moving into this apartment seven months ago. It is November 1st and it is 82 degrees outside. Back home it’s 35 and they’re getting ready for the soon coming opening of the mountain for this winter season. I have to get ready for work in fifteen minutes so that I’ll be there on time.
This forest behind my apartment is not silent. Not the way Mammoth was. Almost every second something is stirring. It’s autumn, so leaves are constantly falling. And I’m certain every step I hear is from a deer or a squirrel making their way around. It’s like magic though.
My life has changed drastically in the past year. I’ve probably changed too. I’m fairly certain I’m not the person I was last November. Maybe I’m better. Maybe I’m worse. Maybe I don’t like who I am. But maybe I’m trying to.
My heart is as restless as it always is, but I think I have found a home. I think I’m learning what life is supposed to be like. I think I’m finding who I am. And I think I’m okay with any mistakes I might make in the meantime.