This work assignment is the most appropriate yet for me: a railway-station themed apartment community. It’s perfect for sentimental, wanderlust-fueled millenials. There’s a huge compass rose inlaid in the front bricks, exposed brick walls, and the front clubhouse is set up with a bar and stools to receive travelers, embracing the transience of apartment living by design.
The Sunrail train station, the sad substitute for the high-speed railway Florida was supposed to have, flanks one side of the community. Not just commuter trains use those rails. Giant freight trains rumble through at all hours of the night, whistles shrieking all the way into the station. Those nights the whole apartment community shakes and I lie awake in my bed with other residents visualizing the searchlight through the humid Florida June.
On the other side of the apartments are the quietest sort of neighbors: dead ones. The cemetery has beautiful oak trees draped in Spanish moss and modest headstones. People peer out the apartment windows at the quiet green and nod appreciatively despite the place’s macabre connotations.
Lake Mary is about thirty minutes north of downtown Orlando. It’s a surprising jungle-like twist of florida bush, roads, residences, mom-and-pop businesses, and the occasional chain store made over fancily to fit in with people’s ideas about what they want on vacation. Daytona Beach isn’t far away, and there’s a farmer’s market here on Saturdays. I’m happy.
This community, Station House, is fifteen months old and absolutely beautiful. It’s almost out of its trauma in infancy and beginning to wake up, open its eyes and quit emitting drywall dust around every corner. The landscapers outdo themselves: the brick is immaculate and flowers add pops of color at every turn.
Lake Mary, Florida is so sunny and welcoming… and I can’t wait to see what else it has to offer.
~ The Dauntless Princess ~