things i'll miss about bloomington
the three trails through town, partway lined with canopies of trees, partway gravel, stretching downtown and farther south, past an enormous field with horses, and then later the backyards of enormous houses
huge skies, clouds like brushstrokes — a wild canvas
when the winter frost fades and tiny shoots peel open, when the branches awake and everything swells with green, trees heavy with fruit and petals and young leaves
learning the flower seasons, and my favorite stretch of may when peonies burst open
walks to the farmer’s market and returning with armfuls of blooms
our favorite restaurant slash distillery with fragrant cocktails and unctuous slabs of sourdough
our second-favorite place with thin-crust pizza, blistered and chewy, where we get the same order every time because it’s the perfect pairing (pepperoni, sausage, peppadew + prosciutto, arugula, and grape)
the campus, where we met and were married, limestone buildings and swathes of green and a brook
the skylight in this house, our own little james turrell piece, where we can watch the color of the sky and the rain blossom against the glass
and this house, in general, tucked away in a small neighborhood, the caramel hardwood floors and the two-tone paint, the front windows framing the tree in our front yard, and the blessed central air
the quiet joyful emptiness of a university town during the summer, where things slow down
strangely, the Y here, as i’ve had an abundance of time to take classes and sample the different cardio machines and carve out a routine and start to undo the stasis of winter
the wonder of fresh, thick snow, watching it fall like magic, even though i don’t like what’s around it (the later sludge, ice, bitter cold, the naked arteries of branches)
the beloved public library, an open space, taking home giant sacks of books
the tiny crystals shop, where i’ve had meandering and fascinating conversations about astrological signs and bought too many crystals
the irish pub restaurant here, which j dislikes but i was fond of, with warm lighting and drinks and chicken wings and fried pickles and so many chats with friends
walking through downtown with a fudgy mudslide chocolate ice cream cone from the chocolatier
all my healthcare providers who really do radiate warmth and care, and i felt cared for every time we met
and our pharmacists, especially t, who took the time and energy to find me incredible discounts on my meds when i didn’t have insurance
the target, where i have spent hours wandering as therapy, the consideration of every object, and who i would buy things for
the winding drive to the state park, where we’ve had exhausting hikes and nearby amazing barbecue and once experienced a morel festival at arm’s length, watching people dance on stage wearing morel costumes
the bakehouse turned into j’s preferred fried chicken place, where they keep forgetting my side salad so j gives me his salad each time
the airport, which is never crowded
cardinals, ubiquitous
the deer, which in the summer run through neighborhoods and across streets and i know are a blight to gardeners but i feel there is some magic to them, loping, with speckled fawns
thunder, which can sound cataclysmic overhead, which i may not miss too much
summer, summer, summer