Sweet Season

Today I realized that this, this right here, is the first time in a very long time that I am part of an actual geographic community. Back in Rogers Park all those (6? 7?) years ago, several friends organized ourselves into an Intentional Community, and moved within a few blocks of each other to do life together. And it was challenging and life-giving, but then, like most sweet seasons, it was over. And I went back to being a person in a neighborhood with a handful of friends sprinkled lovingly a few blocks away. Until most of us moved.

Anyway, all that to say, I realized this morning that Les and I are part of our Unintentional Community here in Raleigh, and it is very sweet indeed. We didn't set out to live our daily lives with our actual physical neighbors. Heck, I lived in Chicago for 11 years and for most of those 11 years I didn't even know my neighbors' names. But here in our little U-shaped courtyard building of little ranch style apartments, we've made ourselves a little family. We celebrated our good fortune last night by inviting Connie, our single neighbor in her 60's, and Kim and Josh, our 30-something engaged couple neighbors, over to our home for dinner. This was the culmination of months of 5 minute convos in the courtyard. We were friends forged by proximity, dogs, and a genuine drive to befriend the people with whom we shared one wall. And we had a ridiculously joyful night. Food, wine, dessert, lots of laughter and affection. I feel like Connie is both a mom-figure and someone I need to look out for. Someone who cares for me, for Auggie, for Les and also needs some friends and companionship. And Kim and Josh are quite a bit like us, and all together fun to be around. Their puppy Parker has become the spritely glue that draws us all out into the grass in the evenings to coo and laugh and take turns with his endless pleas for belly rubs.

Connie left around 9:30 last night, and Les and I stayed up late talking with Kim and Josh about faith, and Jesus and church and religion. They're believers, and we felt like we had known each other a long time, even though that was really the first time we had talked about anything other than dogs or the weather.

This morning when I walked Auggie into the Southern Living Magazine Spread-like neighborhood behind our house, we, per usual, ran into my other favorite neighbor, Joe. On any given day, no matter when I walk AugDog into Brookhaven, Joe can almost always be found standing in his driveway inspecting his garden. No matter how warm the day, Joe will be wearing a button down shirt and cardigan, long pants, and a fishing hat. He sees us coming and bursts into an animated welcome routine, urging Auggie to warm up to him with "Let's be friends, little man", as he gingerly tries to stoop a bit to stretch out his weathered hand. Auggie, true to form, gives it a dismissive sniff and walks away. Joe shrugs. "Maybe next time". He turns his beaming face to me and thanks us for walking over. His hearing aid gets a quick flick, and I ask him to share his secret to such a lush and exuberant garden. He's eager to tell me anything I want to know about his irises, peonies, azaleas, forsythia, phlox, roses, and hellebores. He always apologizes that it is not as neat or orderly as it once was, his patchwork of thigh-high glories, grouped together by type and color. I tell him that I love it, that it looks wild and natural and inviting. He thanks me and laments that people might think that he has just "let it go", but I disagree. I tell him that every time I see it, I want to lie down in the mulch and hug his irises. He laughs until he coughs, and Auggie has already started to pull away from our chat. I tell Joe to enjoy the beautiful day, and he nods. "Oh yes. It's so beautiful. What a day, young lady! Enjoy it!"

I used to think that urban centers had the market cornered on "local" and "neighborhood". When we first moved here, I felt like we had floated to a remote island of suburbia, but I have been proven wrong over and over. We recognize people at our park, and they know Auggie. Our dog walker and the dog groomer/pet shop owners know us and consider us friends. We've made friends at the tennis courts, at coffee shops, and just walking around Lake Lynn. We had a fantastic little dinner party on Friday night at the home of one of the volunteers who works in the Habitat office who invited us to join her and her husband and another couple for a home-cooked French summer dinner. We have been embraced and welcomed into our little unintentional community, and have been humbled and blessed at every turn. I never ever expected to feel so rooted in a place that less than a year ago still felt totally foreign and lonely. We have our church friends, of course, and my work friends who have become very dear to me. And Les has a group of guys that he hangs out with and talks Philosophy and Bible while eating ice cream or smoking cigars. Not a bad set of circles for 18 months in a place.

As we ponder and pray about whether I will move with Les to PA or keep our home base here, I'm drawn to want to stay here in the arms of our newly gathered People. I'm also encouraged by the confidence of knowing that we did pick up and make new friends, found confidants, made alliances, hosted dinner parties, and stumbled upon a gardening guru right behind our home. The world is FULL of amazing people. That is a blessing, every day.