As I’ve been acclimating to my new life in Southern California, I’m slowly establishing a rhythm. By no means is it perfect but instead, it’s a work in progress. One of the activities I’ve been trying hard to incorporate is to continue the discipline of writing. For a while now, my goal has been to write a new post once a week. Listening to the clicks of the bouncy Mac keyboard when I type brings me a sense of familiarity and calm. Today is the first time since moving here that I’ve been able to sit and write on a weeknight. (I’ll probably be asleep in 20 minutes but I’ve been able to accomplish this mini goal.)

Leading up to this moment of quiet, I’ve been mostly out of sorts trying to figure out my new surroundings, routine, climate, and the stillness of our home. I continue to be shocked that we don’t have upstairs neighbors running around at three in the morning. Now, we can freely open the windows because there is no ice cream truck spewing exhaust all day. My commute to work is a quick 13-minute car ride up the road; I no longer have to zig-zag my way through what feels like hundreds of people just to get from the subway to the office.

All this to say… I know that life has given me a chance to breathe. Yet, I have not fully embraced it.

As I’ve expressed in the past, I love sunrises and sunsets. I want to see as many as possible in my lifetime. One of these days, I will make time to experience a Los Angeles sunset… whatever that may be. But in the meantime, I can reflect back on the pink and red skies of Utah and remember to reflect on where I’ve been and continue to visualize the road ahead.

Thompson Springs, Utah: Population 39. June 2017. FujiFilm Finepix X100.