My Happy Place

What does it even mean, “happy place”?
People will tell you when you’re upset, angry, or stressed, to “go to your happy place.”
Today, I realized that my “happy place” has been right in front of me all along.
Broadway from 72nd to 116th Streets.
It’s about an hour-long walk, and who are you to tell me a 3-mile stretch of road isn’t a “happy place”?
This photo from a solo walk in February makes me happier,
and more grateful
than any dumb tropical island or deserted waterfall I can think of.

One Comment Add yours

  1. Deidre says:

    It does look beautiful. The problem with the tropical island "happy place" is that in reality, it's hot, sandy, and their are probably mosquitos or a super strong breeze.

    My real happy place is the living room floor of my parents house – lying on the green rug with a dog.

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