City Personification

City Personification

Just like people, Florida changes according to her whim and circumstance. I suppose every state has its personality, and it would be correct to claim that cities, too, have their own traits. 

Let's take the last city we stayed in for a while. Wynantskill, New York, is a slow moving city in the winter with a few splotches of real red and brown blotted by gray clouds. The air is clean and fresh, and the ground sprouts fascinating trees and thin creeks opening to truth and treasures. Just like the trees form a commune known as a forest, the people, too, form a community.

St. Augustine, Florida, on the other hand, has wild and brazen look-at-me lights in the winter–excitement whirring through the historic streets. The water lapping its shores could be calm or stressed, much like the man-made lake outside my mom's house. Some days the lake is without a care in the world–a sheen sheet of contentedness. Other days it has been agitated by the ducks–ripples of worry chopping water in different directions. In days like today there is a breath of apprehension that ruffles the leaves of the plants on the porch and wills the fan's arms into motion. At any time a storm could break, thrashing about the trees in a tantrum, the winds breaking out in a heavy cry.

Later, the sun eventually peeks through a crack in the clouds. True blue is the color of the Flordian sky–an untimid reminder that after her sulkiness she will turn baby blue, and even later an artist's intense blue.

Photo: Paul Brennan

Text: Kristen Mastromarchi