For the past few weeks I’ve been giving serious thought to moving. Perhaps I should be proactive and plan for the next phase of my life, a phase in which I can’t do what I’ve been doing on my own for the past ten-plus years. I’m beginning to feel old and beginning to feel that maintaining my little old townhouse is just too much for me. Something always needs maintenance or repair. There are always shrubs to prune, or leaves to rakes, or mulch to be hauled. And the worst—snow, snow, and more snow to be shoveled.
What if I moved to a nice condo with no stairs and a garage? I’d never have to shovel out my car again and someone else would clean the sidewalks and haul mulch. I’d find a place where I could walk to a coffee shop and a book store, and ideally be able to walk to a really good grocery store. And I could just lock the door and travel without all the complications of having someone watch my house.
So I’ve spent the past couple of weeks cleaning out the excess in my house with thoughts of putting it on the market. I’ve done online searches for condominiums in the area, talked to a couple of people about my ideas, and looked at few condos in Annapolis. And I’ve been thinking about getting an agent and getting serious about this move.
This morning I went for a walk. It was slightly cool, misty, and humid. The colors of the leaves were beautiful, softened by the fog that creeps in from the river. I walked a few blocks from my house to Pine Hill Road, a quaint dirt and gravel road with split-rail fences, horse pastures, and dilapidated barns. It’s such a surprise to find this slice of another time and place in the heart of busy, upscale McLean. I realized that I can’t leave this. I can’t live in a busy urban area with too many cars and too many people and too much concrete. I need green and quiet and lovely places to walk. Maybe eventually I’ll have to move, I’ll have to surrender to the effects of aging. But I’m not ready yet. Not yet.