The palms of Fremont

There is a window at the top of the stairs that looks out across the street. It’s a small window, mostly decorative. On certain mornings, when the sun is just getting up, if I look out that window I can see, perfectly framed, a single palm tree.

If I look at that tree, back lit by the rising sun, and I fix my gaze to ignore the roofs of the track housing, that single palm transports me right to the tropics.

I could be in Biscayne Bay or Belize, Andros or Cuba. Just for that instant.

This morning the sun isn’t up yet, so I was deprived of my temporary tropical window, but I do look for it every day.

Somehow, it makes me feel just a little bit warmer, even if just for an instant.

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