As I Slam the Car Door

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There’s a certain feeling, a certain taste, a smell and a texture I feel all at once. It’s the feeling of crisper air, an easier breathe and the feeling of a purposeful life. There’s that feeling as I slam the car door and step outside. I hear that cheerful greetings of birds and animals… yet, all at once, it’s so suspiciously silent. There’s a thickness in the air, a thick mixture of nature and beauty. There’s that breeze that cools you down so affectionately, even during the heat. There’s just a smell, not the smell of a warm kitchen full of cooking food, not the smell of a load of clean laundry. It’s a smell so unique, so much better… so perfect.

Slamming the door of the car, stepping out onto the sidewalk, it’s all gone. There’s that taste of dust and a smell of burnt gasoline evilly stinging my face with angry pollution. A sign of nature? None but the rats and mice running through the subway tracks, none but the lonely tree withering in the harmful air. I’m chocking up inside. How is this bearable? How do people live through this world? There’s that lingering smell of garbage… never to be washed out of the streets. A forced smell of perfumes…trying to hide from the true odors. There’s only the noise of busy people worried only about themselves. There’s the noise of cars trying to get around the traffic. There’s the noise of inanimate objects taking over the world of the breathing. Day, night, it’s all the same. Not a moment to sit on a quiet bench and just think. Not an hour when you can just lie down and let yourself close your eyes to reality. Not one moment without something happening. Not one moment.

Sixty miles per hour, on a road of no feelings. For miles there’s nothing, just cars on tar breaking through the mountains. Driving thoughtlessly, passing towns, cities, and regions after regions. Miles, gallons of gas, and empty cups of coffee. Turns, hills, views so panoramic- it’s impossible to forget. Going slower, then faster, carefully and then carelessly. Making that last turn of the steering wheel, and then pushing the brake to a final stop.

Stepping out of the car and slamming the door shut. A look around… it’s all still there. I smile. Greeted by the ever cheerful chirps. Taking in the aroma of the leaves, grass and never interfered with life. The tender touch of the air folding me in its gentle embrace. Finally, I came back home. Home where I can listen to my thoughts without hearing everyone else’s. Somewhere I can see God’s creation without it being blocked by man’s. Somewhere I can walk in the streets without constantly looking back in order to not be run over. Somewhere I’m not boss, but the bear that casually walks through my back yard is. Somewhere the scent can never be trapped in a small bottle because of its enormity.

I open the door to the car, about to leave tranquility. Leaving a world so different, yet somehow still on the same planet. I’m about to leave, going into a smaller area, but full of so much more… so much more emptiness. I’m leaving the peaceful mountains of New York, the millions of acres I call home. I’m going into the New York City where even after so many years, I somehow still feel like a tourist.





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