365 #38 - History in my back pocket

Saturday, February 11

Today I am thankful for dense sparseness of this place I now call home.

Today was my first full day off since coming here.  I slept in, had a nice breakfast, and headed out.  My plan was to drive to a house in Hyde Park, stop by a bunch of businesses I wanted to check out for the kids, and spend a few hours in Sleepy Hollow.  It was going to be a driving and exploring day.

So I set off, and took pictures whenever I was curious.  I ended up with many more than I expected - a very good day.  It had been cold - lows in the low 20s overnight.  The plants and cars were chilled, and received the morning's snowfall without protest.  The roads were still warm enough to melt it; driving was painless.

I reached my first objective slightly overwhelmed.  I keep ranting in here about nature and its integration with development.  Today, it just hit me.  I belong here.  This lifestyle is the one I have always wanted - quiet, separation, and at the same time to be able to go places and do things at times of my choosing.  If I had my choice today, this would be our new neighborhood.  The lots are 0.5 acre at the smallest.  One home in short sale here has over 6 acres.

It's a cabin, a home, a refuge, and a resort all in one.  I can feel all my stresses leaving as I drive slowly down a narrow road.  My kids can be loud, and it doesn't matter.  My lights can be on, and it doesn't matter.  The blinds can all be open, and it doesn't matter.  The neighbors are close enough to ask for help if you need it, but there are hillocks and forests between the houses, and so they are not able to pry on you, and you don't have to modify your life to make them happy.

That sounds really callous.  Maybe it is.  But I don't get to choose my neighbors.  I only get to choose (with Katrina's permission) my home.  So if my home can be a place where I am free to either welcome my neighbors or shut them out, that's WAY better than having to think about my neighbors looking in my kitchen window, or my living room window.  Or vice versa.

I just feel at home here.  I don't need a big lawn.  I just want space to breathe freely.

It doesn't hurt, of course, that 10 minutes down the road is FDR's presidential library.  A person can hike up and down the Hudson for a mile or 2 in either direction from there, and there is a trail up to Eleanor's personal home inland a little bit as well.  A nice park to enjoy.  And a little over an hour to the South is Sleepy Hollow, a real place setting for Washington Irving's story.  He is buried there, close to the church he attended.  It is still standing, 350 years later, and is still in use.

Freedom to breathe, but easy history is everywhere.