Missing Atlanta

Since nostalgia and a sort of bittersweet sense of loss seems to be my modus operandi, primarily in relationships, but also in regards to geography and pretty much anything you can think of, this new feeling should be no surprise to me. I MISSED ATLANTA TODAY! Atlanta, the city I have been bashing since I moved their nearly 11 months ago.

This doesn’t mean I didn’t complain about the city to the bashful American from Seattle sitting on a bar stool next to me last night (and then proceed to get in a fight about cars, obesity and city planning, but this is another story).

However, today, sitting in this freezing office while outside the sun bakes the badlands above La Paz, I missed Atlanta. You see, it is so green there…the air is thick and heavy with the scent of waxy flowers… gardenias, honeysuckle, magnolias. Spring is so extreme. This spring I held hands with Taije in a street festival among the Victorians of Inman Park, listened to Appalachian music sung by sisters, watched the bare branches of the dogwoods turn white in a day. By now the mosquitoes, cicadas and cockroaches have most likely taken over… making the night a jungle cacophony. Even this has charm… sweating in the darkness of a screen porch, comfortable in short sleeves and sandals on a porch swing… while the jungle movie noises overshadow our whispers.