If Celamoria were a real place.
We talk about Celamoria being a special place that we get to step into…. an energy, a feeling, a state of being.
A special place that only we can “see and feel”.
But you know…
Sometimes I wonder what Celamoria would look like if it were an actual place… like a city or town on a map with its own economy and laws of it’s Universe.
A place that other people could see and experience.
The weather would only bounce between summer and fall…. staying daylight til 11 pm most days, but resting early during the autumn period.
No ice storms, no sneeze filled allergy season.
At night, the sky would be ridiculously clear.
There would be more stars than darkness, and you could see galaxies millions of lightyears away with your naked eye.
And every few years, the entire country would shut down for an eclipse.
Obviously.
The houses would be fun and weird.
No white boxes with black shutters.
No cookie-cutter subdivisions.
Sloped roofs.
Big windows.
Wood everywhere.
C. O. L. O. R.
Architecture from the 70s that makes you stop the car and admire.
Every home would be filled with plants.
Walls covered in beautiful tapestries.
And Persian rugs.
So many hand knotted rugs.
There would be no rug stores, though.
You’d have to find them on Facebook Marketplace for suspiciously low prices.
It’s the law. 😆
Warm string lights would be considered appropriate year-round.
Silly dancing in the kitchen would be encouraged.
Flowers, blueberries, and blackberries would grow everywhere, for everyone to pick and enjoy.
There would be mountains on one side of Celamoria and an ocean on the other, because apparently we’re making up geography now too.
The official transportation would be long drives with smooth lofi chill music and absolutely no rush to get anywhere.
The best drive would be along The Starman Highway, which is known for large open fields for star gazing at night.
The national pastime would be looking at Zillow listings we have no intention of buying.
Open houses would be just for fun, and we sit around drinking coffee with the listing agents and talking about our latest thrift store finds.
The official bird?
I don’t know.
We’ll figure that out later.
But maybe it should be a Tufted Tit Mouse, because everyone thinks it’s funny to say, and you must say it with an over exaggerated British accent. (Yes… put the bird on ALL the postage stamps already!!)
The official gemstone would obviously be meteorite—which technically isn’t a gemstone, but this is our country and we make the rules.
And somewhere in the middle of all of it would be our house.
The weirdest one of all, naturally.
Plants in every window, almost out of control.
Rugs are layered and layered and piled under our feet.
Music playing somewhere.
You probably doing something completely random in the yard next to our abundant vegetable garden.
Me probably yelling your name from another room because I have something completely unimportant that I urgently need to tell you.
Nothing perfect.
Nothing extravagant.
Just ours.
Maybe that’s what Celamoria has always been anyway.
Not a word.
Not a place.
Just this strange little world we’ve created between the two of us.
And somehow…
I get to live here.
Feeling completely loved.
Having the most fun with you.
Every single day.
💙
