Inspired by California by Joni Mitchell.

The street she lives on now has cherry blossoms on it. They are beautiful and around every corner, a constant reminder of new beginnings. The days are longer now and stretch into bright everlasting nights. In spring, the city is beautiful. It is all the time, of course, but when the sun is shining people often get filled with a strange warmth, an odd feeling of contentment. 

The cherry blossom trees wind around corners to reach you. To remind you of brightness in cool British weather. To remind you that you made the right decision to move here. The petals follow you around, falling at unsuspecting feet, providing bursts of pink and white on mundane concrete. How lucky am I, she thinks. To live on a road with so many lovely trees. 

This thought does not last long. Freckles begin to etch themselves on to her skin. Her mother used to call them ‘sommersprossens’ which directly translates to ‘summer sprouts’ from German. The sun makes her yearn for where she is from, the city she knows so well. How did she only just realise she lived on a street with cherry blossom trees? She doesn’t know this place well at all. There is no favourite coffee shop or shortcut to an undiscovered view. The streets are full of strangers. She has already paid to see ridiculous tourist locations and gone to an overpriced Italian restaurant.

In Edinburgh, she knows that paying to go into the castle isn’t worth it. That Vennel Viewpoint is busy and a pain to get to. If she was there today she would wander through the Water of Leith, dodging joggers and dog walkers. The cobbled streets would glisten up at her because it is raining, it’s always raining, and there are cherry blossoms there too but she would rather stop and stare at the yellow buildings. There is no sandstone in this new city. It’s all orange brick. Where she is from, the beige buildings have turned brown with age, smudged with memories, each one different to the next. On Victoria Street, past the library and the bar that she used to sneak into at seventeen, they have painted the buildings different colours. Red, pink, yellow, blue and, if she was there now, she would have to take a picture. To keep the colours locked in her phone. So when she finds herself- and she will- back in the sea of red buildings, the sun will shine directly from her mobile. 

Despite the cherry blossoms, the world here feels harder. Peace is more difficult. Lothian Buses, in Edinburgh, are free for young people, and they smell like a mix of cheap alcohol and vintage blazers. They look better than the public transport here too, the windows seem clearer and the seats more inviting. It’s easy to get around, to get to Newhaven Harbour and watch the bright beams scan around a black sea for incoming ships, just to be whisked away to the meadows near the university, and watch posh English students trying to read Gaelic signs. The grass is so green, because it is watered everyday by sweet water dripping from white clouds. There is no need for an umbrella because then you wouldn’t be able to look ahead at Lothian Road, at the elegant Opera House and old Georgian buildings that have been turned into Wetherspoons. The Film House is there too, it shut down recently, or maybe it was a long time ago, but her mother used to love it there. She wouldn’t even watch a movie if she was there now, just look out of the curved arching windows for her mother to arrive. 

She’ll go home soon. And it’ll all be the same. Greyfriars Bobby will still have his golden nose, the Royal Mile will have the same mismatched cobbles and she will still know when to pick up her feet to avoid tripping over. The rain will fall hard on to her shoulders whilst she marches around North Bridge avoiding the American visitors and the door to her childhood home will still be blue and chipped from when she fell into it after a house party at fifteen.

She has a sinking feeling though. The city is a constant but she is different now. She will feel seventeen again, if she goes back there. She does like the red brick houses and her cherry blossom street. The clothes she wears are different now and she isn’t sure if she is ready to cover them with a waterproof jacket. The sun shines so much in this new city that there is no need for one. 

Will you take me as I am? She texts her mother.