“May came too soon, and suddenly unable to bear walls, he wandered the campus at all hours through starlight and rain.” I first read about the adventures of Amory Blaine when I was 16, and that quote has remained close to my heart for nearly 10 years now.
Whenever I’m walking the city streets but longing for the country roads, sitting in an urban cafe but daydreaming of a lakeside bench, or wishing I could transform my city view into an oceanside vista, I feel camaraderie for Amory and consider our mutual love for freedom and whimsy.
Today’s more beautiful than most, actually, with sunlight pouring into the city and weakening the bite of the November chill. City dwellers are stomping around in gorgeous coats and sipping chai tea, pumpkin spice, and all other types of goodness-filled lattes. Still, the rush and tumble of cellphones ringing, buses honking and workers running makes me crave an island of sunshine and tranquility.
We read stories about people struggling to get off deserted islands, but, right now, being picked up and dropped off in the middle of nowhere sounds, well, nice. I picture myself walking among the wildflowers, going for a swim, eating fresh fruit, and maybe, just maybe, befriending an elephant or two (would certainly make getting around a bit easier, no?)
Of course in this scenario I was plucked up on a December day when my massive puffy coat happened to be filled with books and music and a cellphone (gotta call a plane when I start craving walls again, of course).