I was used to the hustle and bustle of the Seattle night. Fire engines running ramped, police sirens dispersing through the night and the shouting from drunks who could not care that people were sleeping. More than once I woke up in the wee hours to the ruckus. But it is so quiet, almost eerie in this tiny village.
I walked into town the other day which was a very big coup for me as I do not know the language and the thought of a villager speaking to me fills me with dread. Words have always been my strength but here I am stripped of my super power, not being able to communicate is my kryptonite.
It is snowing here. Snow, such a foreign concept for this girl who grew up on the hot, sandy beaches of Miami. I chose to pack extra high heels in lieu of a parka and am seriously regretting this decision. I also have no idea how to pilot a bicycle through all this white powder.
On my walk I came across a pair of goats. They looked like they were smiling, almost welcoming me to this new life. I was greeted by many things in my daily life in Seattle but goats, were never apart of the programming. I wonder if I will ever get used to all this tranquility, this peace that surrounds this new place. Though I do have to admit how nice it is to sleep through the night without being alarmed by an explosive lover’s spat in the dead of the night, smack dab under my apartment window.