New Life Dream

The weird part about moving is when you go back and visit your old town. The new town seems like some sort of dream, less real. You can’t remember the names of people you spent every day with, and you keep thinking that you will soon wake up to staring at your old light fixtures. Every time I go back to Austin, I want to go to my old house. I keep thinking that I should be able to go through my old garden and pick my tomatoes. It’s not my house anymore, but it feels more like home than my new apartment. Posted below is the last basket of veggies and herbs that I picked from my old garden. [Sigh.] The growing season and Boston doesn’t start for some time.