I've moved out of my Los Feliz apartment and into Caro's house.

It was a little sad to let that place go. There is something even a little more melancholy in leaving an apartment, I think, than a house where perhaps you had the time to make your mark on it and its landscape. Seven years later though, pretty much longer than I've lived in any one place my whole life, I turn to lock the door behind me, and realize that I'm leaving my apartment in exactly the same shape I found it - clean wood and white walls. A paradox considering how much I've changed since the windy January day that I moved in. I remember that day, standing at the windows, watching the palm trees bend deeply and the dead fronds blowing off and being amazed that the seemingly too slight trunks could withstand being bent to the degree they were. And then just being amazed that I could see palm trees. Palm trees! I had never really been in a city with palm trees before, and to this day they remain a source of fascination for me. So graceful, strong.

I guess we all endure the forces of nature as we age and change along with the rest of the world. I think what has changed most in me is the acceptance of change itself. I've grown, like a slow growing palm, almost unnoticeably, but with certainty. And I'm looking forward to my future with Caro, more than anything I've looked forward to in my life.

So I took that final look and the photo above and thought about change. And then I remembered a song by R.E.M. that was always one of my favorites. "I Believe" from Life's Rich Pageant:

When I was young and full of grace
and spirited--a rattlesnake.
When I was young and fever fell
My spirit, I will not tell
You're on your honor not to tell

I believe in coyotes and time as an abstract
Explain the change, the difference between
What you want and what you need, there's the key,
Your adventure for today, what do you do
Between the horns of the day?

I believe my shirt is wearing thin
And change is what I believe in . . .