Nothing to See

Since moving into a nicer apartment, I continually miss the old one. There's nothing new to see here. Since I can't walk very far, I can't see much besides buildings and same-o same-o.

The previous neighborhood had much more variety. I wish I could find a way to go back there and check out all the things that used to make life more interesting. There was a gorgeous white hollyhock that bloomed some years. There was a nice jade plant. Behind our apartment were some purple daisies. On one of the walls was a dense mat of pink flowers, and next to it some blue ones. By another wall at the edge of the sidewalk was some nice fumaria. There were roses of all kinds. I am not actually crazy about flowers, and especially roses, but when that's all there is, you appreciate them. I could show you where the prettiest pink-streaked roses are. And the single roses. And the two-tone roses. And the giant roses. And best of all, the most bestest-smelling rose. And white flowers with pink eyes trailing over a wooden fence. And the hugest cactus plant I have ever seen. And anchusa. And four-o-clocks. And the tame gray cat. And the fat yellow tame cat. And there were two parks within walking distance. One had a community garden where parents would bring kids and give them nature lessons. The other had a roundabout I could sit on and lazily coast around on it. And the great thing was that I could simply walk out my front door and be there. Here I have to go down the elevator, and not much to motivate me to do even that.

Here I have so far found an interesting redroot pigweed, only with better flowers then the wild weedy ones I've seen in the States. Not much else.

Lots of traffic. Late at night is when a few big trucks go through. And once in a while someone in a loud sportscar. I feel like telling him, "It takes that much noise to go just two blocks?" And lots of honking horns. I'm sure that if a tree fell across the road, everyone would sit there honking at it.

I am not actually complaining about the noise, though. At least it drowns out the ringing in my ears. It's just that there's nothing to balance out all the city stuff. Nothing soft, cozy, green, friendly. No pets, no lazy boy chair, or curtains, or carpet. No visitors. Nor is there a decent amount of junk mail. That's quite a handicap when you're trying to make a scrapbook and you don't have so much as a Wal-Mart ad.

And there are no thunderstorms, not much grass, no wind in the trees, no snakes, no rabbits. There's just a lot of nothing, everywhere you look.

Well that's enough of that. Next post I'll try to think of something more positive.