Aura of a house

Began studying Duolingo Dutch the other night. It's been a while since I was on the language app, and I love the animations of characters grimacing, sloshing their drinks, leaping when I score

A house and yard in Salt Lake City, July 2017. Photo by Catherine Arnold

Recently I moved into an apartment that feels like a duplex in the best possible way. It has the aura of a house, lovely. With window light on two sides and quiet of a sort I haven’t heard in years, it’s a rare space. In some rental markets—including this one—most apartments have thin walls or lack an appealing outdoor space. With a shaded patio in this sunny, hot city and a view of a red Japanese maple, I feel fortunate.

Having this space also allows me to draw and foster ideas—something that isn’t always talked about regarding affordable housing.

I’m saying all this because rental prices are not good. I’m still renting, and have heard the news that the United States could become a nation of renters because of staggeringly high realty prices. Sometimes I think I should move to the country, like Vermont or somewhere without too much wind in its winters.

But then I remember much of this continent lacks infrastructure. Moving to a small town here can require daily driving in a way it doesn’t in the Netherlands, many areas of the United Kingdom, or where buses still trundle in from countrysides around the world.

In this area and others, mayors and city councils are trying to implement widescale affordable housing efforts and attempting to place that housing near transit systems. That’s good, even though some of them are encountering roadblocks. I’m glad Oregon is leading the way to some extent.

For now, it’s wonderful to have a good space, a friendly and highly walkable area with progressive yard signs, and flower pots fostering a lush tomato plant with a drip irrigation system and cucumber seedlings whose long, flat seeds I inserted in the soil three weeks ago. Also, the views of the mountains are lovely in the evenings and mornings.

It’s been hot. Typically, the sun here pelts and dehydrates after late June, something I didn’t understand when I arrived here next to the Rocky Mountains some years ago. But this year our high temperatures arrived earlier, in the upper 90s and up to 101; even 104 one day. Yesterday was more humid than usual—25%, compared with the many 8-10% humid (yes, really!) days already. In my view, somewhat higher humidity and fluffy clouds shading streets make things a bit easier; the sun beats less with water in the air. Clouds seemed to result from the summer monsoon—not a thing I recall from my previous summers here—and wildfires within 100 miles. Having grown up in a hot, humid place, I find heat with slight humidity softer on the system. And if we're lucky and it's overcast, the day is sometimes 20-30 degrees cooler.

In a Lyft the other day, my driver was a new arrival from São Paulo, by way of Florida. Unaccustomed to this state’s dry heat, he reflected that Brazil is beautiful. Built next to two mountain ranges, Salt Lake can be gorgeous too. But it’s an area where cooling shelter is especially important in summer—and where Native tribes departed for high canyons in warm months.

Many things are good; I’ve been able to draw more this summer, might start a group or two, and am taking a course in making a business from illustrations and drawings. Also began studying Duolingo Dutch the other night, with an eye to seeing bike networked areas in mild-ish temperatures. A few years have passed since I was on the Duolingo app, and I love the animations of characters grimacing, sloshing their drinks, and leaping into the air over my correct use of the word “brood” (say “brode” in English pronunciation) for bread.

Some of my drawings and illustrations are here.

What inspires you lately?