I've lived in New York City, both Manhattan and Brooklyn, for close to twelve years. In that same time my younger sister has lived in rural New York, rural Maine and, most recently, rural New Hampshire. We're close, but oh so different. She rarely visits me in the city and I can tell she sort of hates it. I remember taking her to some of the off-the-beaten-path parts of Prospect Park once and her guffaws at my exclamations that it "felt like nature." On another visit we went bird watching at the Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge in Queens which is about the least city-like thing we could do. I'm not much for camping and a short hike will do, thank you, but there's a lot I can appreciate about the life she leads. She eats healthy, local food; rarely watches tv; composts; and generally lives a small, conscious life. It's not inconceivable to me that I would one day live in the country as she does. Well, maybe a small town, or the suburbs, okay just a smaller city perhaps. But I think it's interesting how two people can grow up in the same house and family and yet lead such different lives. Below is the view from her house atop a mountain and mine, a typical Brooklyn street.
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