The other morning, I stared at a beautiful sunrise--ignoring the cars that flew by--through a small oasis of naked trees. I missed home for once. Not the house, but the area I'm from--the empty fields, hills and forests. The spokes of the sun piercing bare limbs nearly brought me to tears. It's the beauty of the simple I long for.
Since the time I've been here, I've not felt at home. It's not for lack of trying. Besides, a place should grow on you after nearly 4 years. But, this place is clearly not for me. The ugly chaos of every day here deepens my sadness. Will it harden my senses, making me forget what was once happiness?
To add to my desperation, the oasis of trees is destined to be plowed down, once the land is bought for some commercial venture. Eventually, the pleasure to be had from the small pockets of nature will be walled-off, concreted-over and all but snuffed out. What's left is the manufactured-simulation of what the developers think nature ought to look like. This is progress.
My quest to understand the workings of this city continues. I'm an observer, to be sure.