The city’s soothing heart

Or I’d climb to the top of the waterfall on Strawberry Hill, the island in the center of Stow Lake, sit on the rocks and look at the city spread in front of me. From that vantage, San Francisco looks like a computergenerated model of a perfect city: the lush green of the park, the gleaming modern UCSF medical center on the hill, the fog rolling over Sutro Tower. Up there, I’d be reminded of all the reasons why I loved San Francisco and reaffirm my desire to stay.

It’s human nature to take everyday magic for granted. During those years I constantly reminded myself to appreciate the good fortune of living so close to a huge green space where I could walk, bike and jog every day. But it took a move across the country to realize that I’d been appreciating the wrong thing.

I’ve lived in New York City for a little more than three years now, a decision made for all of the usual reasons. My life is more balanced, but I miss San Francisco, sometimes so much it hurts. When people ask me what I miss, I often say the natural beauty, but what I really mean is the wildness. The way that untamed nature, on a grand scale, is part of your everyday life. The rugged, dramatic landscapes of Golden Gate Park are more special than I realized, even as I walked the park’s trails agonizing over the decision to leave.

New Yorkers have a different relationship with nature. The city’s large parks are more groomed, even the burlier northern sections of Central Park. More importantly, it’s hard to be alone for more than a few minutes. To live in New York means adapting to life in public, but urban walks don’t have the same health benefits as forest baths. Your solitude doesn’t replenish you in the same way as it does in Golden Gate Park, where you can go 15 minutes without seeing another human,