Jennie Savage’s walk started on a sunny Sunday; mine started on a breezy Saturday afternoon. What we had in common- turning left. As I started on my way, I felt my whole body start to relax- I had been sitting for a few hours beforehand, and my body appreciated the break. As I began to wander down my first street, I immediately noticed how, seemingly overnight, Halloween decorations seemed to adorn every brownstone I passed. Skeletons danced in the wind, 2d witches flew on their brooms, there were pumpkins galore! I was in my element. I ran my hands along the black high fences as I passed, taking in the spooky and fun atmosphere. I passed a dad and his little son hand in hand, a mom wheeling her two kids in the stroller- there were lots of families out and about. I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me- the families and Halloween atmosphere coupled together took me back to walks in the fall time with my little brother and mom, hands intertwined and steps light. The song ‘Landslide’ comes to mind.

I continued on, now on Fremont Street. I began to notice the details of the streets I travelled on. I paused at a light arching over a rather majestic looking garage. As I looked closer, I saw a spider scuttling on the web it had spun. The silky fine threads were so small, but quite impressive when I took the time to observe the intricacies of them and the pattern it all came together to create. The spider continued its frantic scramble, and not wanting to disturb it any more, I moved on my way.

I strolled down Wisconsin street, looking up more than down. The sun was beginning to set, and it cast a warm glow on the world. I noticed the leaves of the trees especially; they looked softer, full of shades of greens and yellows, oranges, reds, and golds only beginning to show on a few of the leaf’s edges. What a beautiful scene to see. It was 6:36 PM. Seeing the spider and leaves made me think about how many of these little everyday wonders I pass by every day. How many do I notice? How many do I pass by? I realized that I want to make a point of noticing more, of seeing these small beauties that I might miss if I don’t really look.

I passed a father talking to a woman who I assumed was one of their neighbors. His son was sitting on a porch stoop, looking up, and the lady was holding the leash of the prettiest golden retriever I’d ever seen. They were so at ease as they stopped to talk for a minute. Something about this scene really touched me- it reminded me again of my childhood. I remember neighbors stopping to talk to my parents, as I quietly and peacefully half listened on my porch steps. Being in a residential neighborhood was really bringing out the nostalgia in me. As I moved on to Armitage Street, I felt a total change of pace. There were so many people moving through the streets, a sense of purpose to their steps. There were little clusters of people outside restaurants and shops- I danced through a group of people next to a Jeni’s, all of them totally absorbed in their starting-to-drip ice cream cones and conversation. I paused to look at a sign advertising same-service dry cleaning across the street- the glowing light blue of the letters had caught my attention. I thought to myself “this may just be my new favorite color”- of course, I had to include it in my pictures.

My first instinct when it was time to head back was to google map it. After thinking about this for a second, I realized I probably know more of the streets and the area than I give myself credit for. I decided to try to go home without any help. It took a little more time than it might of if I looked up directions, but this ended up being for the better- the sunset was lovely.

In “Paris, or Botanzing the Asphalt,” Rebecca Solnit quotes Walter Benjamin who writes, “But to lose oneself in a city — as one loses oneself in a forest — that calls for a quite a different schooling” (p. 255). What is the meaning of “losing oneself in the city?” Have you ever lost yourself in this sense? If so, describe your experience. What do you remember?

Losing yourself in the city is an experience like no other. The first and the most memorable time I lost myself in the city was actually in New York City when I was on vacation. I went with my brothers, mom, and dad- when we were all together, we were quite the band of tourists, noisy and excited as we went to the Brooklyn Bridge, Times Square, and all the places to see your first time in New York. This particular day, however, my brothers and dad went off to bike, leaving me and my mom to do what we wanted. We decided to stroll, arm in arm, through the streets of New York, no destination in mind. As we walked, we peered into stores we could never afford, daydreamed together as we walked by NYU, walked into a massive bookstore and came out a few books richer, and screamed together as a rat ran by our feet as a New York native laughed at us from his bench. It was wonderful. To lose yourself in this sense, you must be present, looking and experiencing all that is around you. You don’t have to have any expectations- the world will present you with what you never could have dreamed.

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