First Night in Austin

New city. Same sky, somehow.

Frida's first night in Austin is a modest apartment, a stack of boxes, a welcoming roommate, and a whole city of strangers humming outside the window. About nine hundred miles from the kitchen she grew up in.

You start where you can. The family photo goes up on the wall before a single piece of furniture is in place. Then she sits on the floor, back against the wall, and opens the first bottle. The pour is loud in an empty room. The bubbles rise the same way they did at her mother's table, because they are the same bubbles, from the same spring, out of the same volcanic rock beneath the Tehuacán Valley.

It is not much yet. It is a beginning.

Settling into Austin. Follow at @drinktehuacan.