Moving Back to the Woods

I began this blog in Rhode island where I lived in the woods with family and dogs. Foxes, coyotes, fisher cats, skunks, mice, chipmunks, voles and of course, hundreds of rascally squirrels passed through or nested on our property. The bird life was eclectic and richly colored. Every year a house finch built a nest on the light outside the side porch. Out of the the three or four babies that hatched, perhaps two would fly off, the rest falling out of the nest and scooped up by the nasty next door cat.

Today, I'm returning to the woods with my husband and dog. No more urine odor on the streets, no more alternate side parking rules, no more death-defying rides through the clogged streets of Manhattan. There will also be no more nearby restaurants with great food, grocery stores on every corner, fewer music concerts and other cultural events. We'll miss our NYC friends.

But the country life seems right right now. My husband and I will find jobs, spend a lot less money, and play scrabble instead of going to jazz joints and the latest films. We know people up there, but we haven't established many real friendships. Buck, our big black furry dog, prefers the country to the city. In the city, there's only the sidewalk on which he does his business. Our Upper East Side neighborhood is filled with small yappy dogs that Buck just wants to silence by violent methods. In the country, the dogs are large and usually friendly. There's a big field one block away where Buck can run around and go wild. He's welcome in all the non-food shops and businesses. The house is big enough, and it has a brook running through the back yard. I can walk to the village two blocks away, which includes my bank, the library, my yoga studio, my insurance agent, restaurants, shops, the Post Office, a great bakery, and a small but well-stocked supermarket.

Green acres here we come.