It’s almost as if the suburbs knew where I was going. Yesterday, a few hours before leaving on a train for New York City, I took a walk in the neighborhood. The redbud, dogwood and tulips clamored for attention. See how beautiful we are, they seemed to say. Why visit the concrete jungle?

Because it’s energizing and life-enhancing. Because it’s where I lived for five and a half years — at a time in my life when half-years counted.

I haven’t lived in the city in decades, but I’ve missed it and longed for it and visited it as often as possible. All it takes is a return — a getaway like the one I’m on now — to rekindle that excitement.

The suburbs threw everything they had at me yesterday. But I left them anyway — for a few days.