Today’s my last day in Brooklyn for about a month. I’ll miss my new home, but I’ve also gotten to missing spanish moss.
New York City: Day 277
Spanish moss and orange groves and road-side fruit stands and all of the family waiting for me in Florida.
This time tomorrow, I’ll be back haunting the 21 square miles of land and the 2 square miles of water that is Lutz. My imminent return to the town where I spent copious amounts of time as a child has me reading about it. Apparently, it was named after an engineer on the Tampa Northern Railroad in 1909. I used to pass the small, wooden depot near the library all the time, but didn’t realize that it was one of the first structures in the city. Apparently, the original post office is still there too, though now it serves as an art gallery.
Also, Lutz was the main filming location of Edward Scissorhands. Huh. Fancy that.
I was thinking about Florida a few days ago while I was walking in the rain. I’d spent the majority of the day in Manhattan. Late in the afternoon, I stopped by the cafe to say hello to The Poet. Midway through my avocado toast, it started to rain. I waited for it to let up. It didn’t, so I made the trek back to Brooklyn, umbrella-less.
It was an embarrassing trip home.
By the time I got to the train, I was drenched. We’d only made one stop by the time I got the hiccups. And when I get hiccups, they are serious and loud and never-ending (or so it feels like). I tried to hold my breath– no use. I pursed my lips together in vain attempts to muffle the loud and silly sound. People just stared at me. I was half-expecting someone to try to scare them out of me, but no such luck.
Once in Brooklyn, it was out into the rain with me again. Still hiccuping, I began the 20ish minute walk home. It would’ve been fine had I not been wearing my silly green slip-on shoes that decide not to stay on my feet when it rains. I lost them at least twice for ever ten steps I took. I lost both almost simultaneously about half-way through McCarren Park and I just started laughing. I must’ve looked ridiculous or drunk or both–a drenched and hiccuping girl not at all able to keep her shoes on her feet. I was too amused with my situation to be frustrated, so I picked up my shoes and enjoyed the walk home in the warm spring rain.
Walking by St. Stanislaus, there was a loud clap of thunder. My first instinct was to run for shelter or lay down in a ditch somewhere– because that’s what they teach you when you grow up in the Lightning Capital of the World (true story). I was suddenly thinking about the rains in Florida when I was a little girl. Growing up in a place that has Hurricane Days instead of Snow Days, where you’re taught to run in a zig-zag path incase you should meet an alligator, where snakes and bugs and oranges abound was pretty magical. As I was mentally locating the nearest ditch, I remembered I was in New York City and there were objects much taller than me to pique the interest of any lightning bolt.
I’m excited to go back to Lutz tomorrow. Excited to see my family and the puppies and the spanish moss.
Hey, New York. Goodbye for a little while. I’ll miss you.