A smile of trees greeted us upon the avenue, for our new street arced into an easy grin. So jubilant were they, arboreal limbs locked into a victory pulse, as if ‘team-tree’ had won the world cup. It appeared too, that no-one had told the flowers of the heat and drought. There they were, bonny petals waving as the brightest of flags, growing from every pavement crack.
They say "moving house" yet that is the one thing that stays right where it is. It is above all, a "people move," a change, a new chapter, a fresh beginning.
When the time is right to move on, you move. Then those boxes that fill and the house that empties, become an act of joy, of self love. You go onwards and the home you love becomes the home of others. The walls that protected you will protect others. And so you say your farewell to the garden trees, to the flowers you watched bloom. Moving vans come, are packed and go. Then comes that bitter-sweet time of parting, the sunset that is also a sunrise.
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