Poppies have started to blossom on everyone's lapels as it gets closer to Remembrance day. I'm glad to see people remember and acknowledge the power of the past. It's a nice - if fraught - symbol, and it makes me wish we had a tradition like that in the U.S. At least it would give us something new to argue about.
I'm finding that I can have just a bit too much city living right in the centre. The crush of anonymity and individual smallness and apathy started to get to me; I needed to get out in nature to breathe. So on Sunday I wandered through Hyde Park, which was a lovely compromise. I love it here, but I'd like to have a community and convenient green space to get out into (and it might just be a matter of finding the right neighborhood). In St. Louis my go-to place was the lovely Laumeier sculpture park.
In Hyde I finally felt the season (fall!!), and was so happy to see leaves on the ground and more than a few scattered trees. Living in the city centre means not really having to adapt to most of the world outside - life goes on regardless, in boxy offices and square-shaped shops. There is a human-based rhythm of commuters and tourists, more than a natural one of seasons and shifts. I wonder if outside of cities people respond more to shifts in time and season, but I may be idealizing that.
In Hyde I finally felt the season (fall!!), and was so happy to see leaves on the ground and more than a few scattered trees. Living in the city centre means not really having to adapt to most of the world outside - life goes on regardless, in boxy offices and square-shaped shops. There is a human-based rhythm of commuters and tourists, more than a natural one of seasons and shifts. I wonder if outside of cities people respond more to shifts in time and season, but I may be idealizing that.
I need that visual cue, and more than a bit of nature, to keep me on a good schedule, a rhythm; I found myself a bit off-balance this past week. Everyone in a city is focused on doing their own thing, myself included, and the absolute distance of humanity (despite the physical proximity) can feel crushing. Defenses are higher when everyone is a stranger; ignoring someone greeting you in the street becomes weirdly habitual, because they're probably trying to hawk or ask for something. I don't like that. I feel bad ignoring people begging on sidewalks or handing out leaflets because regardless of what they're asking for I'm still ignoring a human being. The apathy gets to me, and makes me feel that cities erase some of our essential humanity. Or maybe they just highlight the less savory aspects of our essential humanity. Because it's still a part of us, to be out for ourselves.
Anywho, this has been a fun little diatribe on the nature of city living, but I should also acknowledge that it's amazing to have so many places to go and choose from at the drop of a hat. Oh, do I want to go to this coffee shop or that one today? Do I want to pop into this cool place I just wandered past? (Yes, yes I do.) It's raining today and I forgot my umbrella but it's light and lovely. November rain and all that. I'll leave you with another serious topic I've been mulling over: why don't we have words like rumbledethumps in America??
Anywho, this has been a fun little diatribe on the nature of city living, but I should also acknowledge that it's amazing to have so many places to go and choose from at the drop of a hat. Oh, do I want to go to this coffee shop or that one today? Do I want to pop into this cool place I just wandered past? (Yes, yes I do.) It's raining today and I forgot my umbrella but it's light and lovely. November rain and all that. I'll leave you with another serious topic I've been mulling over: why don't we have words like rumbledethumps in America??
Love,
Annie
Annie