to my new city

I presume I'll always feel most at home where the skyline is dotted with brick and where each season is distinct from the next (never in my life have I experienced a Winter or Summer so mild, nor an Autumn or Spring so rainy!), where French ignites my ears, and where bakeries grace every corner. 

Yet, despite all that I miss, Vancouver has slowly become quite dear -and familiar -to me. 

There really is something special about her slate and aegean complexion, her salty Pacific breeze, the neverending soundtrack of rolling waves and chanting seagulls, the way her mountain peaks and fir forests disappear under the Pacific Northwest's thick mist. 

I love the versatility of her inhabitants - their love of hikes and surfing, of art galleries and folk music, of sushi and coffee. I love the welcoming kindness of Vancouverites, in the form of banter about real estate or warm smiles along narrow city streets. 

I love her overcast skies, and the ashen days you wonder if the clouds will be able to hold the rain much longer. Although I confess to complaining about them, I am even learning to love her downpours too - their way of beckoning you to slip into cozy knits, light a candle, and crawl back into bed with a good book. 

Perhaps what takes my breath away foremost is this: just when you think you couldn't possibly take another grey day of rain and torrent, Vancouver charms you all over again with a glorious blue sky, complete with golden sundrops and snowy alpine views in the distance. On such days, bookended by weeks of drizzle and cloudburst, you remember how very lucky you are to be here. 

She's a beauty, in her very own way. 

And I'm grateful she's my address.