Reflections on the City...New York City, that is...

Having traveled for just over twenty-four hours to Manhattan for a brief glimpse into what makes the Tribeca Film Festival a festival, I can easily say without a shadow of a doubt I am a country mouse.

Not that visiting the city is bad, dear reader, don't get me wrong! We had a glorious time walking the city, seeing the sites, riding the subway, eating, laughing, talking and drinking with friends new and old--but it was just enough, you know? I defer to my friends when in the city (sometimes to my own chagrin--can you say "Pink Berries"? Yech!) especially as they have been there more, seen what's good and what isn't ("Yech!" goes double for a strange concoction called "bubble tea"... Puh-blah!) and generally know their way around, and they almost never disappoint. Whether it was the Staten Island Ferry, Grand Central, the Strand, chicken on a stick... The list of things to do, see, smell, taste, touch, hear...

Except crickets. Frogs. Birds. The wind in the grass... Being in New York was... Well, it was like trying to roller derby through a herd of 250 million water buffalo all going in different directions... Slightly less hairy, slightly more dirty, but just as difficult to get used to. My friend Scott claims that unless you've lived there for more than two years, you will hate it--it's just a given, but it will grow on you. If you ask me, that's like saying the city grows on you like cancer, but that's just me I suppose.

As I sit now in my own home, having showered the grime and dust of the New York City streets from my body and mind, I listen to the wind chimes on my front porch, a slight breeze coming through the screen door, crickets singing a serenade to the stars and bats pirouetting after their prey, I can't help but to appreciate the lack of people; the absence of noise and sirens; the lack of light shining from roof tops and bridges.

But it was nice to visit. In another year, I may get the urge again! And, of course, if Scott does move there permanently, it may have to be slightly more often--after all, he's well on his way to being a great film and television writer. But until I have to once again traverse those streets and enter the bowels of the earth to ride the metal snake, I think I'll just sit here in my small slice of country side and enjoy...

All part and parcel of being a country mouse...