Recent news coverage, as well as the experience of living in our new house in Pittsburgh, has got me thinking, in purely selfish ways, about the concept of wealth. Enriched is how I feel, when I can get past the fits of heebie jeebies and exhaustion that are to be expected during a cross-country move.
A wealth of space has opened to me–home space, first of all, a dining room, an office with my own desk, porch space, storage space, basement work space, and a stretch of concrete out back for my first awkward stabs at carpentry. I love living in a dwelling that has windows on all sides–a proper cross breeze can make a room feel bigger. More importantly, I’ve experienced a drastic increase in the amount of space–public and private–in which I feel perfectly at home.
Much of that space lies in Frick Park, which consists of 600 acres, most of it heavily wooded, just a 15-minute walk from our home.  That’s slightly bigger than Muir Woods (though only a tenth the size of Mt. Tam State Park), and if Frick Park lacks the grandeur of redwoods, it offers almost the same sense of seclusion, and all the leafy intensity of my greenest desires.
Raymond and I went for a walk there at the first moment of foliage change, a breath of yellow here or there amidst the verdancy. I felt not just comfortable or happy, but elated there, connected, weightless, ready to walk all day. I took photos trying to capture the feel of the leaves’ embrace and even snapped a few shots of the dirt at my feet.