This day, one year ago, I moved to New Mexico. That night, despite being exhausted from moving-related labors, I could not fall asleep. I tried to find something familiar in the shadows of my empty apartment; in the darkness, those echoes and creaks, those sheets and silences, could be the same as those of home. Filled with more trepidation than anticipation, I tried to ignore the significance of what was about to happen, focusing instead on getting through one day in this desert frontier at a time. 

One year later, again exhausted from moving-related labors, I sit beside the flickering flames of the fireplace, in the company of some fine looking puppies. This living room already feels like home, which may be due in part to the fact that Albuquerque is starting to feel like home. The uncertainly of the previous year has dissipated. I can be happy here; I will be happy here. 

Tomorrow, Albuquerque: Year Two.