I have been meaning to upload a bunch of photos from my camera and as I looked through them I found a few that I wanted to share. I had wanted to make a post sooner, but hadn’t edited them until recently. That, and I had some feelings I wanted to share, but wasn’t sure what they were or how to describe them.
Coming from a small suburban town, moving to a city was a bit of an uncomfortable transition. I was use to fields of farms, fresh air, drinkable tap water and ice cream that could be bought for $1.25. I was use to dipping my toes in brooks, whispering to trees and not having the slightest worry of being hit by a car if I j-walked. My idea of home was soon replaced with angry cab drivers that hardly stopped at red lights, artificial parks, and deep dish pizza. The tall trees of my childhood were soon replaced with cold sky scrapers that seemed to go on forever. For a while I was unable to sleep with the city lights that seeped into my bedroom. I was startled by every honk and siren that came my way. I was disturbed by the cities starless skies. Everything was cold and ugly, but still I was curious.
I was use to visiting the city. I didn’t live far from New York, but even so I knew that I would always return to the silence of my small town away from the cold, hurried shoulders of the city people. Visiting and living are two very different things and I’m not always the quickest to adjust. I get use to routine and attached to my comfort. So when I made the big move to Chicago I was excited, but once actually their I felt that perhaps I made a mistake. An air of melancholy surrounded me and I knew not why. But I adjusted, I found my home and routine here. My feelings towards home and the city have changed, but not my desire for nature. I found the beauty in the city. I explored what it had to offer and with that I discovered and made a new home. I now love the buildings that surround me and can’t seem to stop looking up. I love the little birds that gather around the strange city made floral arrangements. I love the museums and the people who play music in the streets. The city is new and always changing, where as home seems to always stay the same. When I visit it is like looking into a snow globe. I shake it and little snow flakes fall, but they always adjust back to the same picture. I remember visiting my town during my first winter break. When I returned to Chicago not more than a few weeks later I found a new Walgreens and Target that seemed to sprout from the concrete side walks over night.
I have found love and beauty in both the city and my small town and I am lucky to call the two my home. My town has kept me safe, cradled me in its arms, where as the city has taught me to explore and be tough. The town taught me silence and the city taught me speed. As my time in school comes closer and closer to ending I wonder what else I will call home. Do I stay here? hmmm the thought of leaving my home, my routine, and starting over makes me nervous, like it did three years ago, but I will leave and find a new place to call my home and who knows maybe I will return to the city, maybe I will move to a new city, or maybe I will return to the suburbs. I am not sure. Whatever I end up doing and wherever I end up I am sure I will have a slight anxiety attack, but in the end I am confident that I will dissect what it has to offer, find it’s beauty, learn to love it and call it my home.