December 21, 2023:
Home. Sure, of course.
The sky is correct. The smell is correct. The hills, the streets, one or two restaurants.
The people are gone. Besties, family. A tiny, tiny circle, but, once upon a time, my tiny, tiny circle.
The bookstores are gone. The theaters. The miniature golf, the slot cars, one of the schools, although good riddance to that.
The canyons are full. Three and four story condos, identical, pre-fab. The roads are full, many are wider, now six lanes where once there were two. There are people people people. 40% more, almost a million.
Is it still my world? After 33 years in exile?
Yes, I think. Mostly. Where sky and smell and sound are the anchors which matter.