I can see the streetcar from my kitchen. I can see my kitchen from the streetcar.
The rabbits don't know what to think. They're just glad to be out of the car.
Everything here is lush and green and ALIVE. Rich green carpets of trees drape over streets, providing much needed shade. The live oaks shelter us all. I've missed the camellias and azaleas, but not the gardenias. And who needs dogwoods when you can have giant magnolia trees, with their dark and glossy emerald leaves?
It's hard to believe I'm home. Or rather I know I'm home, but I don't fully know that I'm not leaving again. For years it's been easy to fully embrace being present here, and leaving has been excruciating. I'm overwhelmed with everything that has yet to be accomplished, but I need to embrace a time-honored New Orleans tradition: worry about that tomorrow. After all, it'll come whether you like it or not.