Roman Gardens Observation

Roman Gardens Observation

I used to peer out of this window against my back, as I observed the easygoing atmosphere of Roman Gardens Apartments. The landscape hasn’t changed much but I think that’s what makes this place so uniquely perfect. I first moved here last May of 2007. One might suppose you could call it a risk I took, but I think the risk wasn’t that hard to take—to be in oblivion, is to have more possibilities—of which I’ve found myself in a beautiful accident.

In the near distance I can hear John Buck cheering along with others in an apartment. The four walls of apartments that completely enclose the courtyard allow sound to be captured and carried to you regardless of which apartment is yours.

From here, the second floor of the east wall, I can see my new apartment. It lies directly above the South entrance, also on the second floor. In front of it is the set of stairs that lead from the ground to the second and third floors. I did not spend the last school year here; it feels good to be back. I suppose I planned this last school year too well out. There was no room for accidents. Again with the cheering.

This summer I bought two orange director chairs. One of which I am sitting on now. The other is sitting by our front door along with my green camping chair. From the balcony above hang three matching twisted pieces of plastic that spin slowly in the breeze, mesmerizing the eye. Near by from the courtyard below, grows a tree that bears green leaves and little orange berries, all in clusters, complimenting my patio furniture quite conveniently. Our neighbor Brynn is sitting in the other director’s chair by my apartment’s door. People gather there. It is a point of interest. One cannot pass the beauty of the orange chair and not have the desire to sit there. It is a point of interest. It was a good buy. It was a beautiful accident. The four enclosing walls of our fortress force us all to exit our apartment into the courtyard, and out through only either the north entrance, or the south entrance. My apartment lies above the South entrance—it is hard to miss quite conveniently.

The guys cheer again.

The people here are almost all new than my experience here last summer. I do not recognize the girls chatting and gossiping in the pool below me. The water reflects and bends the sun’s warm rays, reflecting them to shine on the ceiling above me. That’s something I miss about the position of my old apartment, the pool’s reflection onto my front room’s ceiling. The clouds are streaked against the sky. The boys are cheering again. There’s a water noodle in the hot tub. Massive cheering. I wonder if BYU just won. People here are so friendly. I do so like it so very much. I was surprised to find how many people were willing to help me move in last summer. My mother and I pulled up, and I got out of the car, looked up at the large white complex, and said, “Well here I am!” And before I even had time to pick up my first box to move in to my new apartment, a whole of pack of strangers were helping me get on my way to my new home.

And hey, some girls just offered me Ice-cream. Again with the massive cheering. Dang, I should watch that. Craig’s inviting people to play soccer. Music just turned on through the open door of my old apartment beside me. It doesn’t look the same as when I lived there. But that is expected with each new tenant, as they make themselves a home.

I think it’s all beautiful. This place. When I was younger I used to dream about living in a huge house with all of my most favorite people. This place I call home, is a perfect, beautiful accident.