Maple
tree in my front yard. Used to have a birch. Lived in places with
dozens upon dozens of oaks surrounding the house. No palm trees.
Neighbors
have some evergreens. Wide variety of those. No palm trees.
Spending
some time in Florida over the years, I’ve noticed that just about
every yard has a palm tree. Some short and full, others tall and
wispy, but palm trees all over.
I
was walking the dogs along a street in Florida when these and
other assorted differences hit me in a moment of realization,
where I recognized the differences I so often take for granted.
And I blame the sidewalk for noticing it. See… well… ok…
It
snows in the northeast United States. In some places, it snows
a lot. Enough that there are special laws in cities and towns,
rules in communities, and courtesies extended between friends
and neighbors. Park here, clear that, help others.
While
on my walk, I spotted a street sign that announced no parking
on the street for a specific stretch. That got me thinking about
how signs such as this, if around my house, usually involve a
disclaimer that there are parking restrictions for snow removal.
This is not an issue in Florida.
That
moment of clarity connected with the sidewalk the dogs and I were
following. Sidewalks are everywhere around here. More common,
it feels, than in residential areas I’ve lived in for most of
my life. As an added bonus, Florida properties, to my understanding,
do not bring with them the responsibility for clearing a sidewalk
in front of your house after a snow storm. You don’t have to shovel
what doesn’t fall.
Many
of the views and experiences I encounter in New York don’t even
merit the slightest of consideration in Florida. You don’t stock
tools in your garage to clear the driveway, and you don’t move
your car to a different place so a plow can get down the edges
of the roads.
Yet,
I would argue, snow and palm trees are far from unusual considerations.
Snow falling isn’t rare. Nor are palm trees. But in the right
location, you won’t find a single dollar in a city budget allocated
for snow removal. You won’t find rows of palm trees used as landscaping
staples.
I
wonder from time to time about things we take for granted that
others would consider an amazing sight.
It
applies to the way we live. The towering structures of wind farms
are becoming a bit more widespread, but it wasn’t too long ago
that you might be stunned to see them in your travels. Hop on
Route 1 in the Florida Keys—or not far off it—and you’ll be treated
to houses on stilts and pillars. Not exactly a norm from the houses
of Montana.
It
applies to natural wonders as well. The moose you might encounter
in northern New Hampshire don’t often vacation in Arizona. Mountains
here, ocean coastline there, thick forests and majestic canyons.
None
of it rare or unusual as general subjects, and yet all potentially
nonexistent outside your kitchen window.
In
talking to many people, it becomes something that fades into the
background. Open the door, see a palm tree. Here comes the snow,
grab the hot cocoa. Nothing to see here, just everyday stuff,
move along.
There
is someone in the world that wants to experience snowfall because
they never have. Someone that wants to have a rum drink with feet
in the sand and a palm tree nearby. It’s not always as easy as
opening the door.
So,
the next time you step outside, take a look around. Try to notice
a few of the things that you see so often they don’t even register
with you. Not everyone gets to watch a rafter of turkeys cross
the yard.