There are cities where the nicest outdoor areas in 200 miles wouldn’t make the top-100 list of outdoor areas in the same radius, for other cities.
There are cities where the nicest outdoor areas in 200 miles wouldn’t make the top-100 list of outdoor areas in the same radius, for other cities.
Fresh air, literally. Sunlight during parts of the year. Observing the changing seasons. Seeing plants, and maybe animals. Exercising by myself or in organized sports. Being in a shared space with others in my community enjoying themselves.
These all seem like pretty small asks for an outdoor space. Sure you probably won't appreciate them in a highway median, but I also doubt that most people would have to drive 200 miles to find something like this.
edit/ I've also lived in Ohio, Pennsylvania, Georgia, and Texas, and spent significant time in the Carolinas, Alabama, and New Orleans. I'm stretching my brain to think of a single place where I've spent time that didn't have access to compelling outdoors. Texas is the one that really comes to mind, seeing as there's little public land there.
There are parts of this country that make one long for the emptiness of Kansas. At least there’s a kind of stark beauty in seeing nothing until the Earth curves away at the horizon. And biking on those zero-elevation-change-for-miles arrow-straight country roads can be meditative.
You can do all of these by just opening a window.
>but I also doubt that most people would have to drive 200 miles to find something like this.
You're right, I don't have to drive anywhere, I can stay indoors and get all that by opening a window.
The exception is in the context of a relationship, but you only enter those by meeting rare drop people with good chemistry (which is precluded by staying indoors all the time) or as a coping strategy for low single income (but you're on HN hahaaa $$$).
The Earth, like socializing outside, is jejune. We are adapting for the new world.
I'm deeply introverted, but I love the energy and bustle of people, and especially love the brownian motion of ideas and cultures colliding in big cities.
I associate nature with deep loneliness because there are so few people out there, and those who are out there don't really talk to each other. I've been camping, been on hikes, etc. with and without friends, but it's really not my thing. I like going fishing with friends, but forests are not my thing. As a kid I watched a movie about cabin life in Oregon and it left an indelible mark on me: I told myself I never want to live that life. It's so isolating.
I love being around people, even if I don't talk to them. I could sit in a cafe by myself and feel full just feeding of the energy of the overheard conversations and the relationships of people around me.
But as a Chicagoan, I do love talking to people. I love the inconsequential interactions like asking the receptionist how her day was, or the person in line about the weather.
I can't stand it anymore. I found out I really enjoy living in the countryside, with access to some nature.
I associate nature not to loneliness, but to solitude, which I usually find desirable. And the bustle of people around me is deeply annoying. I can enjoy going to a cafe when it is mostly empty. If I start to listen to people talk, I feel an urge to leave.
I wonder if it has something to do with a personal trait, or to the specific metropolitan area I grew up in that made me dislike crowded places so much.
Polar opposite here! I dread a landscape of brick, concrete and asphalt. Whenever I visit a large city I feel the need to escape as soon as possible. Large cities contain more people but less community than small centers, in which it's easier to get cozy with the people living around you geographically.
Large cities comprise neighborhoods where lots of community is found. Chicago has 77 and very warm.
I also think that too many Americans today err on the side of avoiding potentially rewarding activities because of the chance that they might be uncomfortable–stuck in such a narrow comfort zone that’s basically counter to experiencing things that promote happiness and fulfillment.
I guess that means I should move somewhere that’s frequently snowy if being outdoors often is a goal.
That's "why bother with romance when you almost certainly won't be with one of the 100 most attractive people in the world" logic.
To use your analogy, it’s more like living in a city where the most-attractive person once came in 3rd in an ugliness competition, and also everyone has unpleasant personalities. It’s less that you don’t have any of the best options available, and more that you don’t have any that are better than “still fairly bad”. You visit a buddy few couple states over, rave about how wonderful and pretty all the locals are, and your buddy’s like “dude wtf we’re infamously the ugliest town in this state, and the reputation is deserved, I need you to say these things to some of my local pals so they can have a good laugh”.
Why bother, indeed.
I'm guessing I probably have (by your definition), as a matter of fact.
But what exactly is a "really bad outdoors situation" anyway?
Really bad.