What do you guys think? Which sounds better?

From Lon Emerick's Going Back to Central:

"I must confess I did entertain the notion of being a snowbird at one time. A restless peregrination around the nation in a box of metal and glass held little appeal, but I did think it might be pleasant to spend winters in Arizona. After teaching for a semester at Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, I became fascinated with the southwest: the blend of Native, Hispanic and Anglo cultures, the intriguing feel of the desert, the red rock country, the vast forests of ponderosa pines. So one year after I retired from teaching, with some reluctance on the part of my wife, we spent a month in Prescott.

Prescott is located in north central Arizona. A small town—at least it was before being recognized in a national magazine as the place to retire—it is situated in the Bradshaw Mountains surrounded by the Prescott National Forest. It has a beautiful city square, streets lined with historic homes and, most important to us, many opportunities to wander. Close to the Grand Canyon, the red rock canyons of Sedona and the Sonoran desert, it should have been an idyllic respite. But I soon became disenchanted and melancholy.

Instead of Lynn and Lon in our home place, where we know and are known, we had joined the flock of mature individuals cluttering up the town. Most of our con­versations with longtime residents began with the nervous inquiry: “Are you planning to move here?" Even in local stores we noted posters which read: “If the person in the car ahead of you is elderly, and so is the driver in the car behind you, you must be in Prescott.” Lynn and I found ourselves making pre-emptive strikes in our encounters with locals, telling everyone we met that we were not moving to Prescott.

Have you ever noted that, when several members of one particular age group are clustered together, the worst behavioral traits seem to emerge? The situation becomes what social psychologists call a “behavioral sink.” Whenever we went to restaurants, especially during the “early bird” hours, we overheard groups of retirees talking about medications, surgery, arthritis, even serious discussions of irregularity. Lamenting the untoward behavior of young people today and reviewing financial matters were also frequent topics of conversation. But the thing that got to me most of all was the way many people spent their days. Lacking any meaning­ful connection to the local community, many of our age cohorts resorted to filling their days with “planned activities.” It seemed to me that many of the snowbirds were simply perched in Prescott for the season, employing shallow diversions such as golf, card playing, shopping and bingo to pass the time.

I felt uprooted, fragmented, a noncitizen. There was no continuity to the past, no personal landmarks, no sense of identity with a community. And my connection to the land, to my home place, was severed.

Thus it is that I am a determined homebody and, when away from this Superior Peninsula for very long, a morose sojourner. Like my literary mentor Thoreau did in Concord, I travel extensively in my own native valley. Oh, I know that those who are rooted deeply in place are sometimes viewed as vegetative, nonadventurous, even stuck-in-a-rut. Moving along seems to suggest moving up and the wanderer is somehow romantic, inspiring, footloose and fancy free. Perhaps. Is it not better, more deeply satisfying, to live in one place and really know it than to have been a visitor in a score or more? Some are born to a landscape and bloom wonderfully where they are planted. Others, pilgrims like myself, eschew the temporary titilla­tions of a migratory existence and search for their Eden. Some of us are lucky enough to find it. St. Brigit of Ireland challenged a group of restless seekers with this short verse:

Tis labor great and profit small,
To go to Rome;
Thou wilt not find the king at all,
Unless thou find him first at home."

Lol.

My town's gas station got rid of its Bitcoin machine. I asked the manager why. "Oh, we had dat ting for more dan a year, eh. Not one person had ever used it!"

I love my town

Neat