Albany of the Imagination #2

In this town of my desiring, I see myself eating at Shades of Green, the vegan restaurant on Lark Street. Many of the street names of Albany's Capital District are named for birds. Dove Street, Eagle Street, Hawk, etc. Lark Street is Albany's version of Greenwich Village. It has a "funky-bohemian" feel to it. About two miles to the west, down Central Avenue is the Food Co-op, the name of which escapes me for the moment. I imagine myself hanging out on Lark Street sometimes, sharing a meal with a group of friends of like mind, all of whom come together in a thirtysomething-like collection. (I hear W. G. Snuffy Walden's music and others of that ilk as the soundtrack to this existence, I must also note.)

I envision a life where yes, cold weather abounds. Of course Albany frequently has harsh winters, yet I love that. For today, anyway. Growing up in Colorado where it could snow 3 feet one day then be 65 degrees the next day in December, I do have a deep affection for the white stuff. Even four years at Dartmouth, where it gets really cold due to the humidity of the continental climate, couldn't exterminate my "nevaphilia." (I think "Nevada" means snowy, in case my made-up word is incorrect.) I need to have four seasons. Since I entered into this abstinence my sensitivity to seasonal change has become much more exquisite. Now that we're into Lammastime, I am aware of autumn's imminence. The season is "born" now, while Summer is at its apex. Over the next few weeks, I'll be longing for squash, sweaters and the changing of the leaves.

The Hudson River Valley gets a gorgeous tinting in autumn, needless to say. Last fall, I sat near the Hudson in Riverfront Park and just took in the grandeur of the trees across the river in Rensselaer. I can envision lovely get-togethers, maybe even bonfires at nearby farms and the like. I can also imagine lively dances and social opportunities galore. In this world, I still don't know what I would be doing for a living, but I'm filling in the details of the dream. It will unfold at its own place as I color in more of the vision.