I walk promptly to catch a bus that makes shapes and predictable patterns inside the veins of my favorite city. My unfamiliar heavy gait finds amusement in the wet pavement. I’ve known this sound for years but after seasons in the desert it has never been quite this sweet. I arrive at the bus stop moments before the bus arrives, but just long enough to stretch my tired calves along side the curb and smell the cigarette of the woman walking past. Long enough to take note of all the things I love about the moment.
I gaze out the window, like a child entering a fairy tale, only it’s real, all of it. Octave peers out her window with eyes that mirror mine. She rests her eyes only to chew off another piece of her fruit leather. We enter the city with patience and fervor, there is nothing that goes unnoticed and nothing that is left to be praised. Everything looks and smells wild. My heart feels just the same.
In giddy awe I remember that just weeks ago my life resembled nothing of the present. I laugh with the newly profound realization that we didn’t just leave behind Wyoming but we left behind three American virtues… a “good”career, our automobile and television. We left all three without apprehension or regret, and traded them in for the intangible. We traded them in for the look in my husband’s eyes, and for the newfound peace inside this swelling belly. We traded it all in for that moment I looked Octave in the eye and said, I love our life.