Our First Apartment

We’re going to move to a new apartment. While the prospect of a new place to decorate and christen is exciting, it makes me remember all over again why I love this apartment. There aren’t too many reasons, as it’s a small space and we’re taking all our stuff with us, the location is unique.

We have a gorgeous view. There’s a window that indirectly faces a busy street. The flow of traffic, day or night, is comforting. It’s a reassurance that life is ever-flowing. The view also shows two sets of mountains, in their full glory, and the sky above them. If you’ve ever seen the mountains in Northern Utah, they’re huge. Bigger than the ones I’m used to in the ‘Burque and in Cedar City. These don’t turn red as often as the other two locations, but our window is so big and the mountains just fill it. Our kitchen table sits right next to this window, and I look out often. There’s even a perk at night: along with the ongoing traffic, there’s a quirky light that changes colors the longer it’s been on until it can’t stand being on anymore. It’s only other option is to go out, and then it just as suddenly decides it wants to start anew with a bright white light. The white fedes to yellow, then orange, then a brownish color, and then black again. It’s a phoenix, albeit a really spazzy one.

The apartment is gloriously cool in the summer. We open the windows at night, sleep under a few covers, close the windows in the morning, and survive on the desert cold all day. I was hoping to spend another summer in this apartment, but it won’t happen.

This apartment is on the ground floor of the apartment complex. I don’t have to climb stairs. I’m not afraid of getting run over by cars or heights; I’m afraid of falling down stairs. However, I have to remind myself that I’ve lived in other apartments with stairs leading to them. Our next apartment has seventeen stairs leading up to it.