Author: Sofia Samatar
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Street Haunting
There is something inspiring about the first real breath of cold. We had almost forgotten that our city could produce this weather.
Non-Places
Admittedly, it was an odd decision to walk to the mall. Malls were not made to fit a walker’s routine. These massive, enclosed shopping centers arose in the 1950s, part of a shift that included the growth of the suburbs and automobile culture. Malls are often blamed for the decay of American city centers, because their superstores and movie theaters drew people away from local downtown venues, encouraging residents to discard a walk to the corner store in favor of a drive to the mall.
Pedestrian Secrets
This year, my year of walking in the Friendly City, I am thankful for the steps: the secluded pedestrian steps, half concealed by foliage and bridge rails, that offer safe passage to local walkers.
The Image of the City
There is a forest near my house, but I’ve never walked there. I can see it from the bike path that branches off from Third Street, where I often stroll, but a fence separates me from the dense trees that beckon across the distance, raising their rusty branches against the ashen sky.
Small Fates
By Sofia Samatar “The Friendly City” is a weekly column about walking in Harrisonburg that will run during 2024. Each week, your friendly correspondent, writer and teacher Sofia Samatar, will reflect on a walk in our city. Wandering through Woodbine Cemetery, I thought I might write some small fates. In 1906, the French writer Félix …
Murmuration
You’d heard that it was possible in the city, in the autumn and winter months, to see the murmuration of starlings at dawn and dusk: the birds flocking together in a wavelike motion, making dazzling patterns in the sky to the rhythmic murmur of wings.
The Ghost of Evelyn Byrd
Evelyn Byrd Nelson Page. Evelyn Byrd Page Lee. Evelyn Byrd Beverly Lee. Evelyn Byrd Page Wood. The name proliferated, rising through history like an unquiet spirit.
Ordinary Miracles
A woman comes striding toward me, bearing two onions in her outstretched hand. Like a personification of the season, she passes me with a jaunty step, her face gilded with light and an expression of unrestrained joy.