Spring Spritz

I opened up the blinds today and everything looked beautiful.  I love my neighborhood always, but it's quite enchanting after a nice spring spritz.  The birds are tweeting.  The car with the flat tires in the alleyway seems like it's a permanent fixture.  The leaveless wintered trees are rocking back and forth.

I feel like a real neighbor now.  Like this has become my home.  It takes awhile.. I've moved many times in my day.  But when a place becomes you own, it speaks to you.  It calms you when you're upset, it makes you happier when you're already happy.

Right around the corner there are three little markets bustling with people on the sidewalks, people in the aisles.  The walls outside are all grafittied up in the usual Philly way.  Across the street from our tranquil red brick rowhome there is a park with basketball courts.  A big blue building that's grafittied up as well.  I walked up there one night and it was eerie as fuck, but it made me feel more connected to the area.  I belong here. I've wandered through every crevice.

When I park my car along the trash-lined street, I get out immediately and always happen across a stranger on the sidewalk, walking to or from the Septa stop down the street.  They always smile, nod their head, tell me how beautiful of a day it is.  I love that.  I grew up in East Bumblefuck where you were lucky to see any of your neighbors ever.  I love how I recognize all of the warm faces on my block.  I love how I can walk around to another block and guarantee that I'm going to meet a new friendly face.  It's a beautiful thing.

When I move out of Ricky's house one day, I want to move to a new neighborhood in the city.  I don't care what anybody says, this is a beautiful place to live.