The Murky Depths 8

2019 screeches to a halt, a year of high peaks and low valleys likely for all. The desperation and elation never fully encapsulated, not in the eternity’s worth of content generated and the endless coverage of current events. We have the facts or something close or far from it, but we never get the true meaning as we always blindly press forward.

At the end of the year, it is a fact I find myself 3,000 miles away from home. I began the year in Virginia and end it in Oregon. I began it with a car that was then totaled in February in the midst of a long and dark winter. Although I often felt alone during it, I realize now I was surrounded by many, who I then proceeded to leave in the spring for a place my gut told me to go. The reasoning was that I am young, and if I did not go now, I might never.

So, here I am. I have traded my car for my own two legs and the streetcar that softly rumbles down Lovejoy. The true mountains with the evergreens looking down on the city from the hills, the mystical feeling in the fresh, moist air, even the grime of the city, I don’t think it’s home just yet, but it is my place to explore and exist. The cost of such a place of course, more so than the money, is what is left behind, a cost that is never fully paid. Nothing rests easy in my mind except when I can find the time to climb a portion of the hills and look out on the city that has been a refuge to me from the beginning and beyond. For now, that will certainly do.

Thanks for listening and best wishes from The Murky Depths for 2020.

– Sean

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