there once was a legendary city. a city perched on the edge. where the mountains and the ocean collided. a city built on the strength of the rainforest, but not strong enough to hold back its weather. a city that still held its wildlife in its concrete hands. occasionally allowing clumps of old familiar green groves for them to seek solace in. the people who tell tales of coyotes they were familiar with, making visits from their local parks.
not many people were from this city. in fact anyone you asked would tell you. “no i just came here one day, and i never could leave.”
you may try to go on vacation, or move somewhere else. but the call of the skyscrapers downtown, the whizzing traffic with its weaving bikes, the ever reaching cranes obscuring the sky line. and the mountains to the north that seemed to loom over the city everywhere you went. watching. turning almost black against the dark blue sky at sunset. spewing hundreds of crows on their rush hour flight to a roost tucked into the far east side of the city.
its was not an old city. a fairly youthful city. built on top of its self. a port city. tucked snug up against the ocean and bordered by a range of mountains. as far west as you could go by land. the final resting place for rail roads, ships, and a large highway that carved east through the mountains. ever broadening into forests, and ripping across streams. carrying vehicles over distances that no feet could conqueror in a life time.