Meanwhile, here in Austin

This memoir examines place, belonging, and how a city shapes its residents through seasonal observations and personal narrative. The writing shows strong observational skills and an authentic voice. It should appeal to readers interested in place-based writing, urban memoirs, and contemporary Texas literature.

The book takes readers through the slow process of discovering a city, with observations that feel warm and honest. The narrative moves deliberately, letting moments unfold naturally—the deer that marked a new beginning, cicadas collected in plastic bags, puddles that reveal architecture, neighbors who anchor the community. Reading it is like walking through Austin with someone who pays attention: how oak trees bend, the P. Terry’s vs. Whataburger debate. The author's photography background shows in the writing, with scenes that stick with you.

The author celebrates Austin but doesn't sugarcoat it. Rising costs, infrastructure problems, and brutal summers—the book covers these, but the affection for the city comes through anyway. The pandemic section and the shooting at the slushie café give the book more depth. They show that cities are made of both good and bad moments. Winter Storm Uri gets attention, with its days without water and electricity, showing how even the toughest moments become part of a city's story. The seasonal structure fits the material, moving from spring through summer, fall, and winter, with each season bringing its own tone. The book includes numerous Austin-specific moments, such as waiting for bats at Congress Bridge, chasing puddles for photography, the Creek Show, and swimming holes. These details aren't just there for atmosphere—they show what daily life actually looks like in this city. Anyone who likes contemplative memoirs or books about cities should find something here.

The book captures Austin in detail, and it might change how you look at your own city—the small things matter as much as the big ones when it comes to feeling like you belong somewhere.