W is for Woods

I realized something today as I was paging through the dictionary trying to find a "W" word that fits my theme. It's pretty earth-shattering news. Are you ready?

I'm a small-town girl.

I'm living in a big city.

Somehow this just doesn't add up.

Oh, it's not that I don't enjoy living in a place where there's always something to do, people actually outnumber chickens, and everybody doesn't know my name (and my business), but sometimes I feel pangs of homesickness when I look around me and see something like this

Noisy, noisy traffic and not enough trees.
(Photo courtesy of Scott Meltzer, Public Domain Pictures)

instead of this

Peaceful, idyllic woods. Note the abundance of trees and the curious lack of cars.
(Photo courtesy of David Wagner, Public Domain Pictures)

I grew up surrounded by the woods, and I miss it. There's something almost otherworldly about the loud silence of the wind blowing through the trees and the birds calling to each other and the chipmunks chattering as they scamper across the pine needles and fallen leaves. I always felt creative when I hiked the trails or sat down on half-rotted, mushroom-covered logs, just breathing in the mossy scent. I miss lying on my back and watching as hundreds of trees scratch their limbs against the sky. I miss so many things.

(Except the ticks. I don't miss the ticks. Would you?)

In all seriousness, though, what it boils down to is this: I grew up with the woods literally in my backyard, and I didn't realize until I left home just how important it was to me. To paraphrase glam metal band Cinderella, you don't know that you got the woods until it's gone.

I would love it if someone could find a way to plunk all those trees down in my backyard here in the city. Then I would have the best of both worlds.

And that sounds pretty perfect to me.



What about you? Are you small-town or big-city at heart? What do you miss?

In the game again

It's true what they say about vacations: you need one to recuperate from the one you just took. Ever since we arrived home late Saturday night, I've been unpacking, doing laundry, cleaning, and taking the kids to appointments and storytime. Yesterday I even managed to catch up on some of my writing. (Yay!) I've been busy.

And I am exhausted.

Returning home from vacation is always difficult for me. If I could, I would move back to Michigan, back to my small town with its small-town way of life. I don't dislike living in a large city--I certainly appreciate all of the opportunities living here presents to me and my family--but I miss the atmosphere of a smaller town and the sense of community and belonging that usually goes along with it.

And then there's my family. We've always been close, and it's hard to be away from them, especially when I know I can see them only once a year. I wrote a 100-words entry about this shortly after arriving back home:

I've been back in New York for only two days, yet I'm already homesick. Although I can think of many good things about living in a large city, I still miss the small town I grew up in. Mostly, though, I miss my family. Neither my husband nor I have relatives close by, and that's really a lonely feeling. I'm not the type of person who has a large circle of friends, and even though I've made one close friend since moving here--a friend I would miss so much if she weren't in my life--the loneliness doesn't subside.

But enough of the sad stuff. What I'm happy about is being back here, blogging and interacting with my online friends! It was hard to be away for so long, and I'm very glad to be back to the world of writing.

So what's up next for me and my blog? More writing and more writing about writing--just more of doing what I love.

And I can't wait.

Small towns

On growing up in a small town:

What they say about living in a small town is true: everyone seems to know your business. I grew up in a town of about 5,000--if you counted the outlying areas. My dad came from a large family, and when people found out my last name, they'd usually ask which one I belonged to. It seemed that everyone knew me. Once a cop caught my boyfriend and me parking near the lake, and I was sure that my parents would find out. They never said anything, though, so I wonder if I lucked out and no one told.