As I look to be heading back from my adventure here in the US, tomorrow, it’s only appropriate to post this which I found in my drafts sadly neglected – it’s from about two months ago…and as the weather is disagreeable today with all the ice, I am treating you to some accompanying Google images from the days of better weather. I will endeavour to catch up with you all in a couple of days after the inevitable jet lag wears off until then,
Living in the midst of an American family can be tough for a solitary chap like myself. I’m used to the silence of my own self imposed isolation, so to come into a family full of exuberant people all doing things and being rowdy can be a bit of a challenge. So after getting a coffee, served to me by that immortal cheerleader Claire Bennet from the moderately entertaining TV show Heroes, I decided it was high time to take myself off for a walk and reflect for a bit.
So there I was, all excitement and giddiness at the freedom I had – not to mention confidence – in pottering and navigating around my adopted ‘hood. Although a grid system is infinitely better than the haphazard English way of sticking streets in willy-nilly, It was really quite a heady experience to be randomly venturing around a new place.
Having meandered around a load of blocks but walking no less than two miles in a wonky octagon formation and soaking it all in, I came to rest – and write the notes for this post – at the Roberdeau Park, a nice bit of grass, tables and shade which provides a nice oasis in the sea of suburbia.
There is such a variety of house shapes and these interestingly formed domiciles have a fine mixture of trees. To some the average American block would just seem normal but to my experience of ever shrinking playing fields, rows of identical housing and ‘no ball games’ signs stuck in every bit of grass it is truly refreshing to see such a nice area.
All this placed against the wonderfully pure backdrop of an inky blue and cloudless sky, only broken by the razor-sharp black tangles of power lines. The sun pulsing down telling me that the world, for today at least is great.
It’s a natural feel here, in this cocoon of contentment, a couple of squirrels look about warily, the gentle breeze brushes the leaves together like pages of a book that are being fanned. For whatever reason that there is a lack of birdsong it does jar with the almost timeless nature of this moment.
All this is a world away from when I started my journey and as I write down various notes on my phone I find myself rereading the texts from my epic travelling days over again and seeing how the pace of life has changed in such a short space and how everything is in flux and that I should and will be enjoying each moment varied as it will undoubtedly be from one minute to the next.
Since I wrote this I am pleased to report that I used a giant, fully lit, inflatable turkey to find my way home in the dark after going a block to far. I like to think that I am unique in this.