I LIKE where I live. I live in the capital of the world. I work, vote, and pay city income tax here. I watch the passage of the seasons from the window over my desk; the treetops in the little park, so recently bare, then fuzzy, now present a square carpet of green.
I like where I live. I go to our valley to grow asparagus, pay property taxes, and drop a dollar in the boot held by the volunteer fireman when he stands in the middle of the road collecting donations. I watch the passage of the seasons from the window over my desk. “The sprightly nymph and naked grace / The mazy dance together trace.”





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