First Local Pick: Home Sweet Home

The first spot that makes a place feel like home is... well... home. So that's my first "locals" topic. I've moved again. Yep. This one's on the West side -- the best side -- and is perfectly quaint. I walk and bike places now, enjoy a peaceful pace, and catch myself gawking at the mountains when I should be driving to work.

I climb the creaky wooden stairs and open the front door, which is itself a black, geometric delight. The inside is light and airy with dark wood beams across the ceiling. My favorite part of the house is actually the outside: the porch and the tiny balcony. Both look out over the valley, covered in overgrown trees and speckled with old houses and slow cars. It's the valley of the eternal lazy afternoon. Beyond the valley is the ever-changing Pikes Peak, Garden of the Gods and Red Rocks Open Space. I can see it all from our little spot, and somehow never tire of looking at it.

It has become my writing nook and reading corner, and is just right for a cup of hot tea (tea kettle coming soon in the mail!). It's my new secret place. I know that's cheating because it's my house, but it's still my secret place. I'd tell you where it is and invite you for tea once my kettle arrives, but then it wouldn't be a secret.

The reason these four little walls made it onto this blog as a favorite local pick is that I feel alive and free here. Even though most people in my neighborhood are of the vintage stock, that means it's anything but "keeping up with the Joneses." It's a place you can simply be and appreciate what's around you for what it is, young or old, stylish or not. Personality abounds, and I breathe a deep sigh of relief when I arrive at this place and call it home.