Just how much can change in a year? A lot. This long time East Villager took herself to Brooklyn and got a job at Chambers Street Wines. Pinch me. I’m not dreaming.

My one-bedroom apartment has a hallway. A. Hallway. There are no tall buildings blocking my view to the spread of sky viewed from my sitting room window. I find myself overlooking the train tracks of Prospect Park station each morning and night. It doesn’t look like New York City as I’ve come to know it in the last 13 years; this image, before me, looks a lot like Europe. The first time a friend saw the view he joked that I had Rome outside my window. Apart from the trains (a sound I love) it’s dead quiet here.

My dad worked for the British Rail for years, before ticket machines replaced humans. He wore his uniform, shined his shoes and blew his whistle for as long as I can remember at Streatham Hill station. I grew up in Balham, an area that was serviced by both the underground and overground trains – the sound of locomotive engines don’t bother me one bit, if anything it is a comfort.

I’ve been dwelling at my new apartment for two months now. Each day gets a little sweeter. My floors are laid with bamboo parquet, the walls stand pristine white and the minimal surroundings provide a good backdrop for coffee & reading rituals, wine & dinner indulgences. I’m a block away from Prospect Park and a two blocks from the Botanical Gardens.

As a neighborhood, Lefferts Gardens is incredibly cool. And I don’t mean in a trendy way. The residents are mostly Caribbean and African American. There is a large Rastafarian culture here. It really reminds me of Brixton. Lefferts feels more real than Williamburg, less out of the way than Sunset Park and more working class than Park Slope. I watched Crooklyn one night and was completely charmed by this early Spike Lee sleeper. It was based on Bed-Stuy but it sure resembles my new hood. And how can you not fall in love with Troy?