I Couldn’t Do It Without You, Earth
To a life worth living, thank you beautiful world
The second time I lived in New York City was short. Seven months compared to the previous seven years. I left for good in 1996. Between those two residencies, I spent three years living in Seattle, with all those trees, lakes, mountains, and accessible recreation. Being back in the urban jungle of Manhattan was, well, difficult.
On the subway ride home from work during that seven-month stint, I remember this: being crunched in among bodies, holding on to a chrome handrail and hearing this repeating chant in my head: “Civil people shouldn’t live like this. Civil people shouldn’t live like this.”
What it came down to, eventually was that I missed the trees, lakes, mountains, skiing and mountain biking on the weekends, the sweet smell of spring and going to watch the sunset over the Olympic mountain range and Puget Sound on a Friday evening.
The next mantra went like this: “Life without instant access to the outdoors is not worth living.”
It sounds a bit dramatic, but at least I knew. My time in New York had been great, now I wanted one that incorporated nature. I moved back to Seattle, kissed the ground, and decided to focus on the next adventure: planting roots.
