A couple, friends of ours, who have lived in Santa Cruz for five years find that circumstances require them to return to their Berkshire home, which they have been renting. It’s a conclusion they resisted until it became inevitable, but now that they have decided, they are overflowing with excitement and anticipation. Their long list of things-to-look-forward-to has me wondering, Was moving a mistake? 

My husband is not wondering this. Temps in the 60s year round are better than cake for him, and the proximity of the ocean is the icing.

Coincidently, we decided to start watching an old show, Boston Legal–I know, seriously? Nothing better to do?–which opens with a montage of Boston scenes. This visual stimulus combined with our friends’ plans leads me to contemplate what I miss about living on the East Coast.

First are my friends. Despite Internet, phone, and planes, there are many I rarely reach out to, and I am certain some bonds are loosening. In my experience, even one visit goes a long way to re-spark connections, but between working and “required” travel, ie, relative visiting, I expect multiple years to elapse before my next visit. My last was in March of 2018.

On the positive side, most people in my age group experience accelerated time flow, so it may not seem like it has been so long when I finally go.

Next is Tanglewood, though when I experience it as a paying customer, as opposed to a grounds pass holder, I may like it less. Tanglewood is a place I dream about, a place where I have been very happy.

I miss the Concord Scout House, where I met my husband at a contra dance, and all the folk dancing activities of the year, including the Marlboro Morris Ale and NEFFA. There is a vaguely reminiscent shadow of the Ale here, but nothing even approaching the Festival. Contra dancing we can find, but with neither the scale nor the expertise of the Scout House version, it makes one wistful rather than sated. The terms women and men are also prohibited, having been replaced by gender-free bird names.

I wonder whether that change has happened in the East?

Brookline, where I lived most of my life, is of course on the list. I would like to just hang out in Griggs Park to find out if anyone I know shows up. Farther afield, I miss Fenway Park, even though we only went once a year at most, and Boston Symphony Hall/BSO, though Davies Symphony Hall/SFS is quite good.

A lot of what I miss is living in a city. We did not realize we were city folk since we lived in an enclave, but we did avail ourselves of the breadth and depth of city offerings, which is much harder to do from Santa Cruz. Though we try. Gas prices and all.

I spent many lovely hours at Nantasket beach, but it’s hard to miss a beach when you live on the California coast. On a whale watch Sunday, we saw one blue whale and one humpback whale, a mola mola, and a black-footed albatross. I am always very happy to be on a boat, miles out to sea.

Boston is a coastal city, but the ocean is a much stronger presence in this small town.