Atlanta, the peach of my eye

The spring time in Atlanta, with its budding trees and warm sidewalks, is the time of year when I go back to that first impression I had of this place, one year ago. You see, this week marks our one year anniversary in Atlanta, when we made that first big decision as two young parents, to move. Here. 

The red lights are longer. Sidewalks are often broken into crumbs where tree roots have won. My car stereo has 6 different stations of hip hop programmed into it. And, regrettably, left turn lanes have become a luxury (something you only treasure in their absence). When we first moved here all these things stuck out to me, all the small revelations that are enough to remind you've come from some place else. Until inevitably, they fade, absorbed into the carpet of the places we've been and will go.

It was easy to jump into thinking that this last year has gone by with little else to focus on then the raising of our girl, this has been her first year, and we have absolutely felt our biggest transformations because it of. But for the stride we've made as a family, we owe credit to Atlanta. Going into our move here my approach was like, "I'll pretty much be house bound for a good year with this little baby, so it doesn't really matter where we live". I was so wrong. Atlanta mattered. Atlanta is where I (we) needed to be this whole house bound year.

Why? We needed Atlanta because we needed to start something together. We needed a risk. And distractions. We needed to be the three of us standing on our own.  We needed to wake up and see a skyline with unknowns. We needed discussions provoked by a big city, in the South. And grocery store lines that have different stories to tell. We needed grace in the form of something that was uncertain. We needed to muster trust like no other. And really go with it. We needed to see that community can happen suddenly, sometimes. And it makes a new place feel so unexpectedly like home.

Now my skin is [even] thinner. I've acclimated to winters that dip only to the 30s. For a few short days. I sing along with the radio and its hip hoppin' beats.  Florence knows the streets we walk to get to the park from our house, she points and pushes me to keep going until we can hear the kids playing at last. There are a lot of things we left when we decided to move here a year ago, and I know both Alex and I still feel a tug, now and then, from the life we left in Texas. But Atlanta was written into our geographies for a reason. And that reason has only felt like one big blessing. One big peachy, Southern blessing. 

I'm putting together a list of some of our favorite Atlanta things, so keep an eye out for it!
2 comments on "Atlanta, the peach of my eye"
  1. This is the best, love how you bloom where you are planted!

    1. Thanks, Momma! I guess, in a way, you kind of have to! Blooming is the best choice :D