With Familiar Glances

I've been living in Lancaster for almost a year now, but I sadly don't know the city well at all. I get lost walking to get smoothies with friends and can't find my way back without the maps on my phone, but I know dirt paths down by the river nearly as well as I know the underlined passages of my favorite novels. Quiet, narrow lanes trekked often on foot in a variety of weather--seeing the same space transformed by frost or new blooms or turning into a child's game of hopscotch avoiding puddles and mud--are so like the meandering descriptions by my favorite authors that prefer to linger on detail rather than plot and both are well-loved by me. Still there is the pang of regret when I wander a few blocks from my house and everything looks unfamiliar; my reluctance to explore within the city or new novels leaves me woefully ignorant sometimes. I hope this summer I spend less time re-reading my favorite authors and exploring abandoned barns on my own and more time wandering downtown with friends...