Where the Sidewalk Ends, Shel Silverstein

"There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends."

I think that any city dweller can relate to the above. As much as we may love the excitement and comfort of city life our souls can't help but be stifled at times by urban living. A retreat to nature for many of us is a return to our youth. For those with an affinity for nature, this is a yearning that is established in childhood. To me nature represented adventure and freedom. I relished in the out-of-doors and all that she had to offer right down to the chlorophil stains on the knees of my jeans. I don't know how I got away from her but it makes me sad. On this trip I look forward to ample opportunity to become reacquainted.