In the morning, stepping into the orchard, the hot and dry air unique to the California Victorville desert brushes against my nose.

The sunlight in Victorville is always intense, but I am truly grateful to start my day like this at my age.

Having lived for 70 years, I have learned a bit about how to live on this land.

I must conserve water and can immediately tell when the trees are thirsty just by looking at their leaves.

Such a simple farmer is always surprised when I go to LA.

On the 10, 5, 60, and 405 freeways, cars are everywhere, people's faces are tense, and the sound of horns pierces the heart.

News reports say that traffic eats away at people's lifespans. It's not just time that is taken away, but stress and fatigue gradually harm the body.

Economically, it accumulates tremendous losses. Gas prices, repair costs, the value of time... If you calculate it, it would probably be staggering.

But the interesting thing is that America is a really vast country.

When I was young, I traveled through the Midwest. Just 10-20 minutes out of a big city, suddenly the roads become quiet.

The roads stretch straight, and there aren't many cars in front or behind.

The fields extend endlessly, and only the sound of the wind can be heard. Seeing that always makes me think.

Why do people choose to live so close together when there is so much empty land?

It's the same in places like Chicago or Dallas. In the center, it feels suffocating, but just a little way out, tranquility unfolds over the meadows.

Well, I'm not an urban planning expert, and I don't know much about land prices or transportation networks.

To my simple eyes, it just seems fascinating and regrettable.

People could live a bit more spread out for convenience. House prices could go down, traffic could ease, and children could play in the dirt.

But reality is different. People flock only to places with amenities and jobs, fiercely enduring within them.

As a result, cities become more expensive and more suffocating.

People like me spend leisurely days sitting in the desert, tending to orchards.

Traffic is completely absent if you stay far enough away, which is nice.

Of course, to go shopping at the Korean market in Chino Hills or nearby, I have to drive a long way, and the hospital is also far, but my mind feels much more at ease.

Maybe that's why, after spending a day in LA and returning, I feel even more grateful for the calm sky of Victorville.

What do I know? I'm just a simple farmer picking apples.

But I do have one wish.

I hope people don't go through unnecessary hardships.

Instead of having their time and hearts gnawed away on narrow, congested roads, wouldn't it be okay to step into a slightly wider world?

The land in America is still vast, and there are many empty places.

Someday, I hope good technologies spread so that people can live a little more scattered, keeping the sky and wind closer to them.

That might just extend all of our lifespans a bit longer.