I can tell it’s a nice day when the whole room goes from what it was before to much brighter than that. A cloud moved away somewhere above us and the sun shines down and pours through the flat.
I look over Taylors shoulder and out the door. The garden is bright and the leaves are rustling in a gentle way. Before long I begin to write, deciding that I must have something to say about this moment.
This moment is so special!
There is so much potential in this new place. Being here allows me to do all sorts of things that I can’t do at home. I can walk to streets full of new shops and around large, misshapen and unfamiliar parks. The river is close and dozens of boat houses sit along it. I could go there and watch the rowers, or sit on a bench and enjoy the architecture.
Yesterday I stopped in front of a beautiful apartment building and, upon focusing in, I noticed a well dressed old man reading a book on his sofa. He’ll be living in that flat until he dies, I thought. The perfect flat does exist and it might be the one that he’s living in.
There is new art on new walls and brown cows walking all over the place. Cows graze in the same parks that people walk through in Cambridge. It’s really special.
I want to take a picture of everything I see. Me and my shadow, big trees, signs, light, the tv from far away, what I’m doing in every moment.
I just took a photo of my hand holding a broken cookie because I thought it looked so nice.
The reality is that I don’t have much more to say, except that I am new in a new place. I am new in the sunshine.