Le Retour, in France, means The Return. It's what they call that time of year when everyone returns from their summer vacanes and readies themselves for the (school) year ahead. Nine years ago, I packed up my world and moved to France. It was the beginning of October and there was a palpable energy in the air. It may have been emanating from my own person, but I felt it. The change in the climate and the change in my life.
I've always felt like Fall was the perfect time to start anew. It's better for me than the New Year, somehow. Maybe it's the magic of the changing leaves, maybe it's the promise of new notebooks for school, but the change in the season heralds, for me, the possibility of a change in your life.
Last year, around this time, I was flying on the trapeze, and taking stock of my life. I had been a single girl in the city for a year and I had grown by leaps and bounds. (Literally.)
This year, however, I'm taking a different kind of leap. Two weeks ago, I moved into my own apartment. No more boyfriends, no more roommates, no one but little ol' me to paint the walls and call the super and deal with the internet installation.
I've never been totally on my own. And to tell you the truth, I'm not. I'm in this great neighborhood, where 80% of my friends reside, and there is love and support all around me, but at the end of the day, I'm savoring all the tiny, wonderful moments that are mine alone.
It may seem a little quiet here at times, but I'm getting used to it and, as I type, there is a batch of apple butter in oven and a pot of soup on the stove and it's starting to feel a lot like home.