Sometimes I miss being in a real city. I miss the vendors, the subways, the bustle,the shops, the museums, street musicians, the smorgasbord of scents as you walk down the street, the parks, and seeing every kind of person.
Sometimes I pine away for the country. I dream about the wide open sky,and the safety of the thick woods, the solitude, the soft hum of cicadas at night, the smell of dew in the morning, and absolute quiet.
...and then there are times like now when I am really happy being right where I am.