This is my first post from my first official morning in the new apartment in Denver. The first cup of coffee in the new place, before the first afternoon before the first night.

It has been a long road. Literally. And one not yet at its end. I have seen storms over the Plains; snow on the mountains. I’ve put more than 1K miles on the dear old car in less than a week. My furniture still doesn’t have a delivery date scheduled. I don’t have any furniture except for my inflatable mattress and two lovely Craigslist finds installed yesterday. I have three pans, dishes, glasses, and one place setting of silverware. I have food. Wine. Bread and cheese. A monkish existence.

I am happy.

Not excited. Content. Trying to let things be exactly what they are, nothing more or less.

The flat faces east (a strange thing, having windows on only one direction after so long, as it was for all those years in Brooklyn.) It gets glorious sun in the morning. The entire “great room” space has windows floor to ceiling, with curtains the exact shade of deep red that my curtains were in Brooklyn, with sheers in an independent layer under them to soften the light. The colors I chose for the place—a rich, warm grey and a friendly cream) are perfect. The wood floors are going to take some keeping up with. I can’t wait for my rugs to arrive.

The cats aren’t sure what to do with themselves yet. They wander from room to room, making little worried sounds. Moe is the least troubled. He has found one of the new scratching pads.One of the guys has found one of the new litter boxes. One of them has eaten a bit, a sure sign of normalcy.

Tonight I will cook my first meal in the new house: orchietta with broccoli rabe and Italian sausage. I will have my first glass of wine here. I will try my damnedest to get an uninterrupted night’s sleep. I will watch tv. I will listen to music as I am doing now, over the dinky little laptop speakers. I will find ways to catch the sunset that I cannot see from here, like the one I caught on eclipse night while stopped at a red light.

Most of all, I’ll do my best to start writing again. The thing that will keep me most grounded, most content. Antaeus with feet on the ground, head in the clouds. Where the words are.