Camille's used to be Sipe's supermarket.
15th. Street is now called "Cherry Street".
Fire Station #5 is a parking lot.
Breakfast can come with a mimosa if I choose.
There's a high steel fence surrounding the Philbrook art center.
But rain, thunder and lightening can still sneak up and pulverize you where you stand, soaking you to the bone in seconds, wind blowing you to the side of a building with shattering force.
And then suddenly ease to a gentle pattering.
It's not that "everything has changed". I expect things to change, I expect to be amazed, shocked and confused, to feel both delight and disappointment in equal measure.
I also am not surprised by the changes in myself, discovered by measuring against the changes I've seen - and the similarities.
No, I think, for this moment, as my eggs grow cold and my toast disappears, I'm surprised at having a sense of place inside myself - that looking at where I've been and comparing it with where I am now - and the paths that got me there - has opened a window in my own soul, letting in greater understanding and acceptance of where I live - me, my true self, regardless of location.
The true home we always carry, no matter where we are.
Home sweet home.
The rain has stopped and I have places to visit before the day is out. Like the ghost of Christmas present my time grows short. I said this a year ago - I can't wait for what happens next.
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