A brief post this time, I promise. This particular point is not a grand pronouncement or revelation. Rather, it's something very obvious to everyone already. I am feeling very sentimental. Tonight for the first time in a while.
Any given place is meaningless. Utica has about 25,000 households. So many of those houses and homes are virtually identical. Levittowns, suburban sprawl, mass-produced structures. Drive past them, fly over them with disdain. Each one is someone's home, and to them it's not the same. The same for cities. Utica is little different in kind from Albany or Scranton or Plattsburgh or even larger cities, Syracuse, Pittsburgh, Columbus. It is not the history of these cities that make them special, not their economies or monuments or landmarks. Only when you leave and become bound by the walls of different gates can you see your lover's veil from without, its true beauty hidden, but not to you. Never to you.
No comments:
Post a Comment