Sometimes the Grass Really Is Greener

A tree blooming in Washington.

Living in Maine where there's little to do besides frolic in the great outdoors-- difficult to pull off when the outdoors is frozen solid--one forgets there's a party going on in the rest of America, or at least in Washington, D.C., where I spent the last four days and where people are actually having a tough time deciding what to do. There was no snow anywhere, green grass covered vast expanses and flowers bloomed at every turn. There are a million museums and about 10 million restaurants, and that's not counting all the pizza places. A good time is being had by many, even in bad weather. (It was cloudy that day.)

During our visit to friends who live in a rural paradise half an hour's drive from the nation's capitol, we ventured into the city only one afternoon, but those five hours were enough to start my engines and make me remember life before Maine. There was excitement in the air, not just bird noises! The streets were bustling with people of all colors and ages, not just old white people in fleece! There were tall buildings and bookstores and buses and subways, and best of all, strangers responded when you spoke to them, and more than a few said "Excuse me" when they needed to get by. Another notable fact was that the Whole Foods store offered tons of samples--you could make a meal in there--whereas the lone Whole Foods store up here does not even let you smell something for free. Not that I would opt to move somewhere just for free samples at a supermarket, but it's on the list, and the list is growing.

Today, however, I'm back here in the stillness, alone with my thoughts once again. It's almost time to go the post office and get the mail, take my walk around our little town, and appreciate the absence of just about everything. There's plenty of time to "be here now," even though I kind of wish I were still there then.