Every now and then, I steal a moment.
I make room for simple pleasures.
I make room for me.
I often forget about the little table up on the rooftop deck.
This morning, though, I’m sitting there, drinking a coffee in the early morning sun, enjoying the still-cool breeze before the day’s heat descends.
I close my eyes and breathe in the scents of my childhood: pots of tomato plants, stalks of basil heavy with fragrant leaves, parsley and thyme, oregano and mint. It is home – all the homes I have known – all in one place.
Up here, there are no walls to separate me from the world beyond, yet I am above, apart from the world as well.
The rooftops and treetops stretch away across the city.
The ceiling on this room is limitless blue.