Asphalt fields

By CONNIE MERTZ

No where is spring more evident than in fields and forests. The lush array of greens is now filtrating the woodlands, and it is so refreshing to see color again. The first wild flowers will soon be gone for another year as the canopy robs them of essential sunlight. There is birdsong everywhere mingled with drumming grouse and gobblers.

This is sure in stark contrast to what I experienced last weekend. My daughter and I traveled by bus to New York City for a Broadway show. It was our first time to take in the sights and sounds of city life. It was exciting at first to see towering skyscrapers and Times Square, mingled with other tourist attractions. As far as the eye could see, there were buildings, people and taxis. Not even a blade of grass was discovered in the city. I spotted two lonely pigeons waiting for handouts. A horse and carriage trotting down 42nd Street looked peculiar amid the honking taxis and constant sirens.

As we walked, being careful to watch the street signs, we felt out of place; literally, like a fish out of water. The city life grew old quickly as the afternoon sun left its shadows on glistening buildings. Our time didn’t allow us the pleasure of much sightseeing, but by the end of our stay, we were welcoming quieter surroundings.

I couldn’t help but wonder if the city’s residents had ever taken a quiet springtime walk and felt the freshness of the morning. I wondered if they had ever experienced the thrills of a strutting gobbler or a buck in velvet. I wondered if they would take delight in hearing a cardinal or the tatting of a woodpecker. Perhaps they would be as bored in my world as I was in theirs. When I returned home, the grass appeared greener, the bird song sweeter, and when I experienced a strutting gobbler from my window, I knew this was where I belonged.