This evening I had one of those scenes that ranks with the most beautiful, if not the most beautiful, of my life. Like you see on a Travelogue aimed at tourists but it was real and three dimensional, not two. It ranks with: the night sky from the now terrorist-destroyed Windows Restaurant atop NYC’s World Trade Center; the snow covered Rockies from atop Colorado’s Vail Mountain all the way down Git-A-Long ski run; Mont St. Michel on the French side of the English Chanel; Lake Como in the Italian Alps; Acapulco Bay from 700 feet above on a parasail; Oregon’s Crater Lake. Yet this view was within a mile of my home.
I ran to Publix to feed my addiction to their Tarragon Chicken Salad then on to Home Depot to pick up a corner paint roller. The latter because I’m painting… not the kind I enjoy, of drawings, but the laborious drudgery of the interior of my home. I’ve been refinishing my stairs for over a year now but can’t put the finishing polyurethane on ‘til the walls around it are painted. But that’s another blog…
On the way home Azalea and Riverside Drives run along the Chattahoochee River, better known in these parts as the Hooch. The sun had just set leaving a coolness at the 400 underpass that condensed the air to a foggy vapor. The distant thick forest upriver might have been the mountains along the Gorges of China’s Yangtze River but the snake like river moved, languidly and southern style, filling to both banks and roadside. Eat your heart out, Lake Como.
It’s good to know life still has serendipities… and right in your own “backyard”.
