Survival in the City

I've mentioned this before, I think, but having lived in the city now for more than six years, it would be difficult for me to move back to the suburbs. I suspect Jude feels the same way. There are three coffee shops within easy walking distance of our house, not to mention at least six restaurants. There's almost always people walking on the sidewalks in the neighborhood. It's nice.

Tonight, after we put John Patrick to bed, I went for a four mile run in the neighborhood. It had rained quite a bit late this afternoon and the streets were still wet. The air was damp and had that smell you only get in the summer, after a rainstorm. Everything smelled clean, somehow. After my run, I walked around the block a couple of times, drinking a bottle of Gatorade and finishing the podcast I was listening to.

Now, I'm sitting on our front porch steps, typing, and listening to a combination of crickets chirping and the drone of traffic in the city. Occasionally, a car drives past the front of our house on Elliott Avenue. It's really peaceful. The maple tree in our front yard - probably my favorite thing about our house - looms in front of me, it's branches filled with lush, green leaves still wet from the rain. It's wonderful that we've had such an unusually wet July, because it's kept the grass and trees green for so much longer than normal.

It's been a nice summer.