The humidity hung on my shirt, sticky and dense. I felt heavy trying to take in a breath as my cab whizzed through Queens and into Manhattan, taking me home after a summer spent in my heart's home: the beautiful mountains of the Pacific Northwest, full of glacier lakes and lush beauty. Back in the city, all I could see was grime. Trash piled high on sidewalks, crumbling concrete, dull paint. I closed my eyes and cringed as my children called out that they spotted the Chrystler Building, now The Empire State's tip, and the Freedom Tower beyond. What were were doing here? Why were we forsaking beauty and nature and wide open spaces? Even as they celebrated the familiar scene of a city that was home for them, all I could see was grey and bleak.