Bean is almost 22-months-old and in the past month has started singing, reciting memorized portions of storybooks, and jumping off of every object he can climb (as he says, “Big Jumped!”). He dances to birdsong, waves, wind chimes, jazz, and even Arabic recitations of the Qur’an. For him, this wondrous world  inspires some serious grooving.

At my parents’ suburban home over the Christmas holidays he gazed out of our bedroom window directly onto an apple tree, largely denuded of leaves but with a few bright fruit still hanging stubbornly on in the mild California winter. I could see the connections being made in his mind – those are apples! on a tree! birds are eating them! and then pooping! – as he stood there awestruck for long minutes, watching.

And that is when I was struck again by my recurrent desire to move to a more rural area. I want Bean to know where his food comes from, to grow his own, to develop a connection to and curiosity about nature, to have unfenced green spaces to roam in and explore. But, at the same time, I adore San Francisco and cherish many of the values of urban living where everything we need is in walking distance or a short train ride away and we don’t even own a car. And, of course, a connection to nature can be wrought here too for Bean.

There is a part of me that only flourishes where I hear trees growing. There is a part of me that contemplates and writes more often and deeply when surrounded by forests and water. But, as I’ve often said to Basil, ‘I love nature – from behind glass.’  Do I have it in me to move from my  city of joy and urbanite lifestyle to the self-sufficiency and solitude that small town life has to offer? Does adding a car and commute to Basil’s day outweigh the benefits of living more lightly on the earth in other ways?

I’ll be thinking about these issues as the new year unfolds. Have you ever moved from the city to the country, or vice versa? What did you love or find challenging about that shift? What brings you joy where you live now?

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