It was lovely.
The grass was green. The skies were blue. Water shimmered in the constructed lakes. Palm tree fronds swayed in the breeze.
There was wildlife to see, too. The birds in Florida are much more interesting than the ones we have flying around in upstate New York—birds like the ibis, heron, spoonbill, pelican and stork. Well, we actually have some fabulous birds in Ithaca, too. We have our own great blue herons, and the red-tailed hawk and turkey vultures.
There were several kinds of lizards (geckos, skinks and such) darting about my sister’s community. We saw them on our early morning walks (necessary to avoid the heat of mid-day).
I didn’t see any alligators, but my sister has. We could have taken a twenty-minute drive to a nature center and seen them.
Most days as we walked around my sister’s community on the wide sidewalks and paved roads, we heard the noise of workers mowing, trimming, clearing and maintaining.
It takes a lot of effort and equipment to create this neatly manicured landscape.
After a week, I finally learned my way around—how to get from my sister’s house to the community center, for example. All the roads and little bridges over the water looked exactly the same.
As I drove home from the airport after I got back to Ithaca, I breathed a sigh of recognition and relief.
At my house, nothing is manicured. I live on the outskirts of Ithaca in a little community of five houses that feels like country.
Deer pass through. We have woodchucks, rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, and Canadian geese.
I mow my lawn regularly, but I don’t worry about dandelions or trimmed edges. I look out my window and see huge pine trees. Acres of woods surround our neighborhood. You can walk the trails and find a natural pond or two.
Ithaca feels wilder and more comfortable to me than the gated communities of southern Florida.
I feel I can breathe more easily and relax here.
Someone who lives in a cabin in the middle of a forest might argue with me that my life is over-civilized and not wild at all.
Is there any part of this earth that is still truly wild?
How wild is wild enough?
