Ode to the Summer Cottage

My time in the north end was like a brief love affair: beautiful, intense, and addictive—yet incredibly liberating.

When I relocated here from the bench just four months ago, the experience was new and exhilarating. The transition even prompted a friend to coin the months ahead “The Summer of Amber.” And what a summer it’s been.

I remember when I first moved into the charming green house with the white shutters. The neighbor’s magnolia tree seemed to blossom just for me, welcoming me to my new abode. I returned the love, hosting backyard barbecues and parties; sipping wine and having heart-to-hearts late into the night, even enjoying a little nude sunbathing with my lady friends. And I won’t soon forget my recent adventure with a great girlfriend, who, on her day off, joined me on an exuberant photo-jog up and down tree-lined streets.

Tomorrow, as I say my final goodbye to the little home on 10th Street, I also part with the people—and animals—that made my summer so special. For one, I’ve come to look forward to my weekly chats with the sweet gentleman that lives across the street. Not to mention, my work days won’t be quite the same without the occasional eye candy cycling by. And what will my mornings be like without the curious kitties that appear on the back porch to peer into my windows?

I will also greatly miss being within walking distance to the Boise foothills and Hyde Park, specifically its iconic Parrilla Grill. Boy, will I miss Parrilla Grill.

Now, as the experience comes to an end, I feel as if I’ve just ended a relationship: emotionally raw and insecure. I can’t help but wonder, What next? Today, however, as I packed up the last of my boxes and brought them out to my car, I noticed the oak tree out front procuring acorns. It’s as if it is offering me a parting gift, and saying, “We’ll meet again soon, friend.”

In the end, I realize that so many things–and people–in life are fleeting. And really, I’m only leaving behind a house. So much of what makes a house a home is the people who occupy it and the experiences shared therein. It is as Emily Dickinson said, “Where thou art—that—is Home.”

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