During an especially fun dance class this morning, one of the songs talked about living in the city. The instructor asked how many people had lived in the city. Then she asked if we missed living in the city.
“I'll bet you don't miss having to find parking in the city, though.”
These conversations at dance are always so one-sided. She has a microphone, but we don't. I wasn't able to tell her that what I miss most about living in a city is not needing a car. It's so incredibly freeing to be able to walk my errands.
After dance, I walked out to my car, reflecting on how I need it because I don't live in a city right now.
I had to stop by the grocery store, so I debated about whether to take the direct route, which involved a mildly awkward left turn onto the highway and then having to stop at the main stop sign in town. The alternate route involved going around a long block on a fairly bad road.
As I started around the block, I thought, “Heather, you've obviously lived in a small town too long if you're going around the block to avoid traffic.”
The wind ruffled the crowns of the honey locusts on the main street as I came up behind them. The honey locusts were in full blossoming glory, gracefully shedding petals to be whirled away by the breeze. In the fall, they shed their leaves in the same graceful way.
I slowed down to take in the glorious scene. If I hadn't gone around the block, I would have missed it.