I love living in a big city: the energy, the pace, the sirens. I love being able to walk or ride a bus to work, or catch a train to the airport. I love crowded sidewalks, tourists craning their necks to see skyscrapers, businesspeople with briefcases and iPods weaving their way through the maze of shoppers and lookers and dawdlers conferring over city maps.
But there’s a downside: I miss the elemental contact with creation. For years, when summer has afforded the luxury of time off, I’ve headed for the ocean. A day there consists of reading, walking, biking, swimming, sand-castle construction (if there are little ones around), a trip to the seafood market, a dinner of shrimp and grilled swordfish, and a game or two before bed. This year’s hit was Scattergories, which left family members of all ages howling in laughter. We spend the entire day out of doors in intimate touch with creation.