I am walking through Broad Ripple, my new neighborhood. I pass the courtyard of my apartment complex where the elder men of our community gather to talk and tell stories in the evenings. Down the unpaved alley onto a decorative stretch of recent sidewalk. Flowers and ornamental grasses grow on either side; beautiful prairie colors on tall stems.

A modern cross box assures me in a friendly electronic voice that it is time to go. A light rain is falling yet I carry my unopened umbrella because I had planned to get a little wet. . . in order to stay cool.

Men and women in three or four locations are out in front of their shops on this Saturday morning in June sweeping the sidewalks and picking up. It is a neat but important business, staying clean.

I stride past numerous bars, cafes and eccentric shops. The telephone poles are covered with colorful flyers for concerts and local events. This area was busy until the wee hours last night. Now there is the feeling of the shops awakening after sleeping in.

I mail two packages at our little post office. I was used to using self service mailing stations in the bigger location where I used to live. It is best to enter this office if you are not in a hurry. But I am getting used to that. Just as I am getting used to being hot most of the time in my little third floor apartment, built with little insulation back in the 60's.

A half mile from my new home I arrive at the Farmer's Market behind the high school. Everyone has umbrellas up as they ponder the goods under 25 white awnings. There are organically grown herbs, cut or in little planters, fruits, vegetables, meat, cheese, eggs, artisan breads, cookies, pies, honey and syrup, cut flowers, bird food, organic dog biscuits, seriously good coffee and tea, fresh hot soups, stews, BBQ and more.

I buy the parsley that I need for a dinner recipe, tomatoes, and a quart of organic strawberries. I already have a huge tub of organic greens in my fridge but I am tempted to buy an assortment of lettuces and other tasty herbs. Next week I will return with no recipe and base my dinner on what I find here.

As I walk back home I stop for bagels. The warm paper sack goes into my reusable shopping bag with my other goodies. The rain is still falling. It is going to be a warm day. A good day to let yourself get wet. A day to walk mindfully. A day to eat slowly and notice flavors. A day to pay attention to where I am now.

I get home and put my things away. My wide brimmed sun hat hangs in the bathroom to dry. My floor fan blows away the humidity. I munch a pumpernickel bagel with salmon cream cheese. I take a sip of fresh coffee. I rinse a deep red strawberry. It is smaller than those you see in the large grocery stores. It was more expensive too, but I met the person who picked it. I bite into it slowly and deliberately. It tastes of a fresh kiss from the Earth. I am home in my new neighborhood.