Sometimes I just like to stay home. This morning, a noted local historian led a tour of old Coconut Grove. Joining the group would have been convenient, since I live only a few minutes away. I know I would have found the information interesting. I love learning about the history of places, and the fact that the Grove is my own neighborhood made the prospect even more appealing. Yet I chose to stay home.
The tour was scheduled to start at 10 a.m., certainly a reasonable hour, even for someone like me, who's not a morning person. However, since this is the first day of Daylight Savings Time, 10 a.m. felt like 9 a.m., making arriving on time more of an effort. Still, I could have managed it if I'd been really motivated. But, honestly, I preferred to have a leisurely breakfast and read Louis Menand's New Yorker article about the current state of psychiatry. After I finished the article, I enjoyed taking a brisk walk around the island where I live, rather than traipsing along with a tour group, no matter how interesting the subject.
I would be worried about this tendency, except that I've been this way since I was a teenager, so I'm probably not likely to change. Not that I always stay home. I do love to explore new places. But for me, the greatest reward of traveling, be it to a concert downtown or to a country a continent away, is returning to the warmth and comfort of my own home. And sometimes, like today, I choose not to leave in the first place.