The Salad Days

To my fresh eyes, Minneapolis is a quiet place. Granted, I live on the outskirts-perhaps if I lived in the heart of the city, I would feel differently. The recent tragic shootings in Uptown and the ongoing troubles facing any urban center show that this is anything but an idyllic place. But it does seem relatively quiet. I lived in Chicago and loved it, but I could never accuse it of being quiet. Growing up in LA, it is not as dense as Chicago, so there is not the same barrage of people, but no one would call it quiet. So far, in this place I have called home for a mere week and a half, I have noticed a certain serenity which seems totally out of place in a metropolitan area. Maybe it is the near omnipresence of water. Even at the off ramp on my local highway there is a small pond and meadow. Across the meadow, I see homes whose backyards run up against their own private pond. Water creates a kind of serenity that nothing else can.

I have much to learn about my new home. After all, quiet can be found anywhere if one seeks it. I do not pretend to have even a hint of a notion of this town's true substance. But, it is interesting what we all have as first impressions. It will be even more interesting how this impression pans out. But for now, I am experiencing a sort of urban quiet I have thus far never experienced.