Last night, we stayed up late talking about friendships and humility and things that make us learn valuable life lessons. Amidst sips of Red Stripe lager and Father John Misty’s “I’m Writing a Novel” wafting in from the record player, we laughed hard and heavily and recreated classic rock guitar solos with just our voices (not pretty). His leather boots rested lazily against my pink patterned TOMS in the entryway, while I rested lazily against his shoulder.
"The magic thing about home is that it feels good to leave, and it feels even better to come back."
Wendy Wunder, The Probability of Miracles (via femmeinnest)
Melbourne Airport, Australia
Photo by Emma Elizabeth Garr
See those windows at the top? That’s my apartment. My bedroom, to be precise. And see that tree right there? It’s now GONE…they tore it down last week to make way for more parking spaces. It may not look like much without its green leaves, but this tree made my apartment feel like a real home. It shaded me in the summer, provided a perch for birds in the spring, looked fantastic with its gold leaves in the fall, and sheltered my room in the snowy winter. I feel so heartsick about the loss of this tree and the little critters and birds who found a home there. All I see now when I look out my windows are power lines and rooftops- no elderly tree fostering tiny communities of wildlife amidst the buildings in a dingy city alley. As Joni Mitchell would say,
They paved paradise/And put up a parking lot.