Today is the last day, the last hours to be exact and the weather is cool and crisp and absolutely pleasant as if this place is begging us to stay. Like an ex promising to reform, this place has become almost inviting.
It feels like San Diego here and I can’t help but think of my babies back home. If only they could see the sunset, the lightning storms and the way the puddles reflect the light here, like beacons of cool refreshing hope. I hated this place for so long, and yet, I am filled with a sense of nostalgia on leaving. What will I encounter when I get to my final destination? How quickly will I adjust to this new and alien land rumored to be harsh and unforgiving? Change brings both anticipation and dread and at this moment, this very moment, I breathe in the smell of rain and wet desert sand. Will the new place bring such sensory joy as this moment brings right now? Will I make new friends? Will I see my old ones? My mind is flooded with questions on what is to come. All I can think of in the twilight hour is the smell of rain.
Oh, I will miss it.