Like a park

The house where I grew up sat on about 3 acres of land on a dead end road.  About 1/3 of the property was "lawn," the rest occupied a hill and swamp leading up to a small river as the northern edge of the property line.  As kids, we did spend some time playing in the swamp and river, but mosquitoes and stinging nettle made that a largely unattractive area. At least for me.

Since many of our family friends lived in more suburban, or even urban, areas, our house became the location for numerous Memorial Day, Fourth of July, and Labor Day family barbecues.  We had plenty of room to spread out and since there already was a passel of kids living there, a few more didn't make much difference. I remember some of the mothers commenting about how it was "just like living in a park."  I didn't really get it.  It was a yard, not an unusually big one by the neighborhood standards.  There were trees and bushes, some weeds, a few flower beds and a sometimes vegetable garden, but it seemed like a pretty ordinary spot to me.

Throughout my life, with the exception of time in college and a few stints in rental housing, I've lived in a semi-rural area.  I have always had an acre or so of land surrounding my house. It was what I was used to.  For the last six years, I've lived in the city.  Some would argue that my neighborhood of a mix of single family and small condominium units doesn't really count as "the city," but it is definitely urban.  I hear the L train rumble by a few blocks away, nightly I hear sirens and my neighbor snoring.  My stamp sized lawn hardly requires mowing. I am enjoying city life.  I love being able to walk to stores and movie theaters, to use public transportation (okay, that may be changing in the current times), taking advantage of all the shows, plays, concerts, and restaurants.

But, lately I've spent some quiet days back at the "old homestead."  I must admit that there is a peacefulness and serenity there that I miss.  You can sit and hear the birds and watch the shadows move across the lawn.  The other day a wild turkey almost walked right up to me and deer don't even startle when you open a door. I appreciate now what those mothers of 50 years ago saw.  It is like living in a park.  I guess it takes a bit of perspective for me to truly appreciate what I had.