I love the city. I loved living in Philadelphia. I love stepping out of Penn Station into NY and being enveloped in the energy thrown off by masses of people and perpetual motion. I love where I live, which has trees and cottage gardens, walking paths and charming and unusual architecture. And a porch for reading the paper and drinking my Wawa coffee on a Sunday morning. But for an even better Sunday morning experience, and an instant flashback to my childhood vacations to grampa and grammy’s house in New Hampshire, nothing beats a quiet stroll through a sleepy rural world.
Medina, TX, June 28, 2008, 7:00 am.
The View from the Porch 
I used to the love city and hate the suburbs.
Now I like the suburbs and love the country.
I love getting off a plane, somewhere far away, where the air is cleaner and lighter, and the light is whiter and brighter.
Where the sky at night is black, truly black, and you can see stars, countless stars, in a space with no beginning and no end.