Early (very) morning thoughts...
I love cities...they can be great places. I love the theatre, and eclectic neighborhoods full of locally owned shops. I love the hum of activity, the festivals and celebrations and everything else about cities. But at 2:45 this morning, I was reminded of why I LIVE in a small town in a rural county, 45 minutes FROM a big city. That's when I was awakened by what sounded like a riot. The sound of fellow humans in an uproar - yelling, sitting on their car horns, and general carousing - permeated my consciousness despite the closed windows of my 10th-floor downtown hotel room. I could clearly hear the voice of one guy who probably is a candidate for a heart attack; his angry-sounding voice was clearly heard above all the din.
The noise lasted nearly 45 minutes, and my sleep was shot for longer than that. I don't know what all the ruckus was about (the Sox lost the game, after all), and I'm not sure what time I finally fell back to sleep; I do know I wrote most of this post on my bedside notepad between 3:30 and 4:00 a.m. After all, I wasn't sleeping!
Cities can be vibrant, exciting places. But for someone like me, who prefers the sound of wind through the trees, geese honking as they fly overhead, and the slapping of water against the hull of a sailboat, a big city will never be home. They're nice - even wonderful - places to visit, however I wouldn't want to live there.