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 response to “My Happy Place”

  1. 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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