I love the outdoors. As a kid, the day the weather warmed up I was knocking on doors to get enough people to play softball. (This was before the internet.) In the cold weather it was either basketball or street Hockey. I'm now 55 years old, and although I believe that my old friends would relish a game of softball, we might need some oxygen.
I still hate being cooped up inside, but today the temperature in New York City will be well into the nineties. Among the other failed systems, a person with Parkinson's Disease "inner thermometer" often fails. Some people are unusually cold, some people are unusually hot.
I sweat profusely. To the point where it is pouring out of me by the time I've walked a block.
Today, if I didn't have PD, or if I didn't get this side effect, I would have gone into Manhattan to see my mother. Then I would have walked to Central Park, entered by the Metropolitan Museum of Art and gotten lost in the Park.
When I think of my special places, I think of The Mall in Washington, D.C., Portland Head Lighthouse, in Portland Maine, The drive along Southern Vermont from Bennington to Brattleboro, Rockport, Massachusetts, Stanley Park, Vancouver, Walden Pond and Central Park, New York. These are places where I can find peace.
Because I don't drive much anymore and walking in the hot weather is problematical, the memories of these places are in my mind and my photographs.
Without lecturing being didactic if you have such a place, go to it soon. It hurts when it's taken away from you.