Abbotsford smells like chicken poop.
I wonder if the people who live here know that. Incredibly, people grew immune to the stench of the brewery and pulp mills in my hometown, so I suppose people here are the same.
There are no stars here.
I’ve never lived where I can’t see the stars. Instead, there is a weirdly lit orange canopy that never goes away in the night.
I have started to walk differently.
I wasn’t aware that I will increase my step at random intervals to miss the cracks on the sidewalk, but I do.
We see a lot of sidewalk.
I drink coffee in the city.
There are sirens too.
And raccoons and crosswalks and turbans and colour!
Colour everywhere, yet it can be so grey…
September was nice for colour.
The people watching, too, is nice.
They’re everywhere, you know – people.
At malls and on streets and in cars and in churches (there are a lot of churches) and along paths and parks and markets (a real one with fish and veggies and crafts and fudge!) and on couches in our living room.
I do like the people.
I like that they’re here.
People are so interesting.
I guess it doesn’t really matter where you are, you know –
People are still people
Wherever you go.