I propped my feet up on the balcony railing and enjoyed the view of the harbor one last time before we left the city. Or rather, the partial view, which is how a realtor would describe it.
Below me, the human drama of Easter Sunday unfolded on the parking spaces. A man cleaned out his garage. A woman broke into a momentary spasm to the thumping bass of Jay-Z as she strapped her child into an Escalade. Another man stood stoically with one hand in a blue newspaper sleeve and the other holding the leashes of dogs squatting on the asphalt.Urban life is far too hectic for me. I looked forward to the simple pleasures of home. We packed up, made one last stop at Safeway for the bargains made possible by high volume, and headed up 95 for Pennsylvania.
The trip was uneventful. Especially for me since I dozed most of the way. And finally it was grand to sit in my own field at sunset and let the peace of the countryside renew my soul.That happened after a four wheeler stopped roaring up and down the road, and the dogs stopped giving chase, and a neighbor gave up trying to get a jump on summer by mowing his fallow field.
Ah, wilderness.
It's only been gone two weeks, but in some ways I already miss winter.
copyright J. O'Brien, all rights reserved
