Peace on Rooftops

If there's one thing I like to do, it's rail against Miami, my home. I cringe to say that, but it's true. I can't run away from it. I've lived here close to two years now. As much as I dislike it most of the year, it's my home.

Yesterday afternoon, amidst a wonderfully breezy, empty, Sunday, while stepping onto my open hall between my apartment and the laundry room, I noticed something strange. Wind. A powerful, lively, breeze blowing through my particular row of buildings. This was strange. While breezes are common near the ocean and in any apartment lucky enough to have a balcony, my apartment is not so lucky. But all is not lost. We have an ill-used roof on my building, accessible through a terrifyingly steep staircase, but accessible nonetheless. I was taken by the weather and leaped up those flimsy metal stairs to my roof.

It was dusk. Reds and yellows played in the sky. Buildings' lights blazed in a bright world. Nearby, a small beautiful white building with red roofs on the balconies. In the distance, huge bright building with twinkling lights and slick-looked glass terraces. Palm trees stretched in all directions. The wind was strong, whipping at my clothes. I closed my eyes, gripped a railing, cherished the moment.

It's a rare thing for me to enjoy something exterior about this town. Occasionally, I'll comment on a nice sunset or a particularly bright day. More often, I question why anyone would want to live here. Yesterday, I knew.

(Note: Added a couple new blogs to the blogroll. Both very clickable. Enjoy!)