Fruit and Rain and A Bird Cage Home

After a month now in China, I finally bought some hua long gua. I had seen this fruit at the grocery, but I could never figure out how to weigh my produce. I've learned that when everything you do requires more energy that you are accustomed to expending on such tasks, it's easy to put certain ones off, hoping that you will come upon a day when you have inspiration to figure it out. 

Today was that day. Hua long gua is translated fire-dragon fruit in English, and who doesn't want to eat fruit with a name like that. I always forget how heavy produce is until I'm lugging it home from the store, and today I barely beat the rain. 

I can't seem to move away from places where the weather is unpredictable. On Monday I was wearing a skirt with sandals; today I wore my heavy coat with thick tights and boots. But with the cold weather and rain has come a quieted spirit. 

When living in Xiamen, my roommate Simone and I walked by a certain apartment complex everyday, which we affectionately called the bird cage homes. These apartments had intricately designed iron bars, reminiscent of a bird cage, outside the windows to protect the residents from falling out when hanging their laundry. 

These days I live in a bird cage home. I was taking some photos of the rain tonight and smirked at how life has brought me full circle. I haven't consciously thought about fire-dragon fruit or the bird cage homes for several years now, or at least the last time I was in China. Yet here I am, eating hua long guo and leaning outside my bird cage window while Belle and Sebastian join the rain in serenading me.